


Truth Behind Golden Eyes

by MyEnglishRose



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: (because it is mostly fantasy but the setting is very medieval/old England inspired), Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Alternative Universe - Kingdom, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bottom Louis Tomlinson, Childhood Friends, Developing Friendships, Emotional Manipulation, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Smut, Everyone Loves Louis Tomlinson, Forbidden Love, Friends to Lovers, Gen, Getting Together, Heavy Angst, Historical Inaccuracy, Jealous Harry, Knights - Freeform, Louis Tomlinson-centric, Love Triangle, M/M, Magic, Magical Creatures, Minor Character Death, Niall Horan & Louis Tomlinson Friendship, Oh also, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Plot Twists, Prince Harry Styles, Protective Harry, Secrets, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, Soul Bond, Stubborn Harry Styles, Tired Louis Tomlinson, Top Harry, Witch Louis Tomlinson, but with a twist :), obviously that will be for much later, sprinkle of humour, which is actually a plot point but read to find out why
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:47:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 72,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28393344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyEnglishRose/pseuds/MyEnglishRose
Summary: The prince lets out another heavy sigh as he slumps forward, head now resting on Louis’ shoulder. The servant frantically looks around, hoping no one is watching the scene. “But you do, don’t you Louis? He has told you some things that you are not allowed to tell me.”Louis bites his lips, breathing getting shakier as he feels energy under his fingertips again, hoping Harry would not notice the sudden warmth trapped in between their chests. For some reason, Harry renders his magic out of control and that scares him. He needs to find a solution to his predicament.He sighs, letting his head gently loll to the side, ear brushing Harry’s curls gently.“I’m sorry, Harry,” he whispers at last. “My lips are sealed.”-: ✧ :-Louis is a royal servant born with magic in a kingdom where his sole existence is outlawed with a war he has no idea he has a part in upon him. Harry is the prince on whom the burden of mending a broken kingdom falls upon and he might be willing to risk it all for a simple servant if only he admitted it to himself.Or. A Fantasy AU loosely inspired by Merlin BBC where one relationship has the power to define the destiny of the whole land.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 84
Kudos: 96





	1. A Choice

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER although i originally intended this to be quite faithful to the show, i ended up... changing all of it. Literally. I kept the original premise (royal servant with magic who has to hide) and the names of the kingdoms and places (mostly because I am not creative enough to come up with new names) while some characters outside of our main five boys and a few people from their family are OCs but with names that may or may not be related to people associated with them in real life, who knows, I will let you discover that. So, basically, as much as the BBC adaption of the Arthurian legend is really... free, let's say, my fic is a very loose adaptation of the show. So you do not need to have watched the show (though if you like cheesy late 2000s fantasy, I recommend watching it) to understand this fic, hopefully! I did sprinkle in some "references" here and there though and some characters' arcs are similar to the show so yeah, have fun with that heheh.
> 
> I have been wanting to write a multi-chaptered fic for so long and i am kinda afraid i won't be able to always be on schedule when updating this fic but i SWEAR to you i WILL finish it. I have spent too much of my time and energy for it to go to waste and not even have a completed product honestly haha. So a huge thank you to my beta [Lou](https://twitter.com/lwtwinters) who really really made the process easier as i am still writing the next chapters. I love you and thank you!!
> 
> I want to be clear, however, that this is the first work of mine where I wanted to focus on a story first and on the main relationship second. It is a Larry fic just... slow burn, you know? Very slow burn. Don't worry I got frustrated myself while writing these idiots.
> 
> Anyway, the chapters are rather long, usually around 8k to 10k words. This first one is longer for world-building and all that too. I will update every Saturday around 6pm GMT unless stated otherwise, in any case feel free to check my twitter or tumblr for updates or questions!! I put 16 chapters overall because that is the original plan but knowing me, it might change later on as I still haven't properly finished writing the whole fic.
> 
> [Tumblr](http://lwtisloved.tumblr.com/) ¦¦ [Twitter](https://twitter.com/darlinlou)  
> I also made an [ambiance playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7r5D0zdcS7y9Q1hYZ7Wkbh?si=KIRyNylnSIOgLcl5w3tzUQ) which is essentially all I've been listening to while writing this fic. The titles of the tracks may be related to some plots of the story heheh
> 
> Anyway, good reading! x

Standing at the stained window, Gemma overlooks the cheering crowd, half-hiding behind the red velvet curtain. Her eyes follow two guards parting the crowd as they make way for two other guards behind them pulling forward an old woman. She isn’t struggling, quite the contrary, really, following the guards’ lead quietly. Her face is barely noticeable behind her untamed grey hair obstructing her view yet Gemma can tell she is smiling, as if at peace with what is about to happen.

Which is an execution.

The executioner is waiting, axe on his shoulder as the cheers get louder the closer the woman gets to the stage. Gemma’s heart sinks. This isn’t the first time she sees this happening but it never fails to make her nauseous.

“Can’t they just get it over with, why does it always have to be such a spectacle,” an annoyed voice next to her startles her.

She promptly closes the curtain before turning around, being faced with her brother’s disinterested expression.

“And you should stop looking if the sight sickens you this much, dear old sister,” Harry continues. “Come on, Father has a surprise for us.”

“It really doesn’t do anything to you? Seeing those people die just for how they were born?”

“They’re _dangerous_ ,” the prince argues back.

“This woman was healing people who couldn’t afford a doctor, how is that dangerous?”

Harry’s eyebrow twitches but otherwise his face remains neutral. He turns away just as a loud “See you in hell!” resonates all throughout the castle before the hysterical laugh of the condemned woman gets brutally cut off.

Gemma knows why but she doesn’t look back and follows her brother.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

_It was early in the morning, the castle slowly waking up along with the sun rising. And yet, two young boys were standing in the Royal Garden, the smaller one with a huge bag, almost twice his size, on his back, the other one wearing the symbol of royalty around his neck._

_“I hate Father for doing this,” the royal one spoke up. “I don’t want you to go, Loulou.”_

_“It’ll only be for a few weeks Harry,” Louis reassured with a smile upon hearing the familiar and oh so endearing nickname. “We both need that! Aelith will teach me how to be a physicist and how to write and read better so I can serve you best in the future! And, you’ll have to train even more too.”_

_“But I need my moral support with me,” Harry lamented._

_“You have it, I’ll be rooting for you even when apart!”_

_The Prince didn’t seem convinced as he only pouted and looked down, ready to cry. Louis could feel the panic rise in his being because, no! Harry may be older but it was Louis’ role to always make him happy! Sadness and tears weren’t allowed, especially if he was the one who caused them!_

_He was just about to run to Stephen and beg him to cancel everything so he could stay with his Prince, but then his eyes caught some peculiar colours in the sky._

_“Look at this rainbow!” Louis excitedly exclaimed as he pointed to a rainbow high above the trees in the distance, something his father said in the past resurfacing in his mind. “Red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, purple… Green and blue are next to each other!”_

_Harry seemed confused for a second, up until their eyes met— green literally meeting blue. And it clicked. “Even up there, we’re together!” the young Prince shouted._

_Louis nodded and smiled. “Those colours always come together after a sad time you know. Sometimes as violent as storms, or as frivolous as a quick rain. It’ll be the same for us. We’ll never truly be apart, I promise you that!”_

_Harry stared for a while, silent. Louis, confused, clapped his hands to get his attention to no avail and then came closer to the other boy again. He flicked Harry’s forehead, effectively bringing the Prince back to earth._

_“Ouch, Loulou!”_

_“I kinda lost you there for a second, what were you thinking about?”_

_“Just…” Harry smiled softly, standing straighter now. He was taller than Louis, probably will always be when they’ll grow up, and no, Louis was not bitter about that as Harry had to look down to properly look at him. “I’m glad to have you.”_

_It was so sincere, and soft, coming from the usually impulsive and naive royal that Louis felt the need to huff and look away— but he was blushing, and he knew Harry knew because the older boy chuckled._

_“Hey, Loulou.” Louis heard before he felt Harry draping himself against his back, curls tickling his cheeks. He did not protest._

_“Mmh?”_

_“Think we’re gonna find the other colours of the rainbow one day?” Which translated to, will we ever have other friends? When we’ve been so isolated because of our own status so far?_

_“We have Liam, don’t we?” Louis replied, frowning as he felt his fingers tingling. It was a weird sensation. He brushed it off._

_“It’s not the same,” Harry countered. The servant could hear the pout in his voice. “He is nice, but he is not you. We have something special, don’t we?”_

_Louis smiled as he rested his hands on Harry’s arms over his chest. “A prince and a servant becoming best friends, an unlikely tale, isn’t it?” he mused._

_Harry did not respond, only tightened his hold, burying his nose into Louis’ neck once more. They only had a few moments left together and he was going to savour them. Louis had to go._

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Truth be told, Louis never wanted to be back. The fact that he just so happens to arrive at Camelot the very day of a witch’s execution just reinforces that feeling inside of him. He doesn’t have the heart to stay in between the over joyful crowd while seeing a poor woman meet her demise so he promptly makes his way around the scene to reach the stable where he knows he can meet an old friend of his. However, as he makes his way through, he manages to meet eyes with the old woman as she positions herself to the executioner’s orders. Recognition gleams into the purple of her eyes and Louis shivers. Louis doesn’t linger, but he does catch the moment she seems to mouth “Good luck” at him before she starts laughing hysterically, her whole peaceful demeanour suddenly changing and eyes glowing gold. The crowd goes silent, and the guards immediately draw their swords in case she would break free from her shackles thanks to some spell.

“All of you! This whole kingdom will go down in flames!” she yells instead in between laughs. “Not because of magic you fear so dreadfully but because of your own bigotry and hatred. See you all in hell!”

Louis turns away quickly enough to not see the axe meet her neck. He sighs as he sees the stable in the distance and the back of a familiar knight ordering people around — this is a suicidal mission, he tells himself.

“Liam!” he screams, startling the said knight who turns around immediately.

“Louis!” Liam greets just as cheerfully, and it is quite a contrast with the execution clearing out literally a few meters away. The knight closes the distance between them and traps Louis in a big bear hug. Louis melts into it, ignoring the slight discomfort Liam’s armour provides to his easily irritated skin. He did miss the man. “Look at you, six years later and you still haven’t grown!”

Louis aims for the shins for that. Liam dodges it easily. “Anyway, would you happen to know where Stephen is? My memory of the castle is a bit fuzzy and I’d like to see him first—”

“Actually,” Liam interrupts him with a nervous smile, “the King has requested your presence as soon as possible.”

“Why the rush?”

Louis grew up for the first twelve years of his life in the castle alongside the prince, princess, and Liam while he was training to be a knight. Following his mother’s mysterious disappearance, his father found himself in a difficult position with a newborn Louis in his hands. Being a long time friend of the King, the latter accepted to take Louis under his wing and shape him as the Prince’s future servant. As a result, however, Louis rarely saw his father who worked hours and hours forging all types of weapons. _The Purge_ had already been going on for a little over a year when Louis was born, which led to a lot of instability throughout the whole kingdom. His mother disappeared the same week and Louis grew up believing the King’s words that she most likely died protecting him from some witches. His father never said anything that would suggest otherwise.

His training involved alchemy knowledge in order to tend to Harry after battles as well. He started to learn at the age of ten through the court’s physician’s teachings. Soon after that, as Harry’s training and lessons multiplied, leaving Louis to just wander around the castle aimlessly, Stephen suggested to send him to train alongside his sister in the neighbouring kingdom, Mercia, for a few weeks or so.

“A few weeks” turned into years when one day, Louis woke up with gold eyes. He remembers vividly being scared out of his mind as objects started to randomly float around him and he could not stop it. Aelith found him deep inside the Brocéliande forest, hiding and shaking in the bushes. Thinking back, Louis was lucky they never encountered any creature or outcasts.

Aelith took him in her arms and promised to protect him and keep his secret. She revealed that she and Stephen used to practice magic as well before the _Great Purge_ and their lives were only spared due to Stephen’s closeness with the King.

_“So you just let people die?” Louis had asked. “You let your own kind suffer?”_

_“We had no choice, little one.”_

_“I doubt that…”_

_He did not understand how beings born with magic could have lost. From what he understood the only way to defeat magic… is by using magic._

Another training on top of his alchemy, reading, and writing lessons ensued as he learned to control his magic to avoid another accident. No one in the village miraculously caught him and Aelith soon showed him a hiding place within the Brocéliande forest leading to the realm of the fairies where he could practice — and play, mostly play — all he wanted. That is how years passed without him even realising, and without the King requesting his presence back.

He wrote letters to Harry and Liam all throughout those years, even a few for Gemma and his father, but only Liam and his father responded. He never dared to ask why the prince was most likely ignoring him so he just brushed the uncomfortable feeling off. After all, Gemma never responded as well.

Finally, six years after his departure, Aelith knocked on his door, a letter with the royal seal decorating it in her hand and a sour expression on her face. Louis gulped. He knew what it meant.

So here he is now, confused as ever, back to being scared of losing his life at every corner. Yet, this place oddly feels like home, a sense of incomplete achievement taking over his body as soon as he walked through the walls of the kingdom. He lets out a breath.

“I think it has something to do with Harry— I mean, Prince Harry,” Liam answers.

Louis raises an eyebrow at Liam’s tense demeanour while talking about the heir to the throne. Harry used to hate being reminded of his title and being treated as superior to other kids, but it seems this has changed.

“What about him?”

“You’ll see for yourself, I’m not risking my head for that.”

“You’re his best friend?”

“A lot has changed, Louis.”

He really does not like the sound of that.

“Could have warned me in your letters,” Louis mutters and it goes into deaf’s ears.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Liam leads him to the throne room instead of the Prince’s or Princess’ chamber and that… that does nothing to settle Louis’ nerves, now half-convinced he is about to meet his doom as well. Liam knocks at the huge door while keeping an arm in front of Louis, preventing the latter from taking a potential deadly step. Soon enough, a gruff voice grants them permission to enter.

The fancy oak door drags on the floor, creating a strident sound that makes Louis’ whole body cringe as Liam opens it. Louis gulps, a hand holding Liam’s arm in front of him as if to protect himself. He can somehow feel the knight smiling at him despite not being able to see his face.

The room is empty with no guards around, making every step echo against the walls. It is eerily silent as well. Louis is familiar with this room — it is where he and Harry used to play for hours, chasing each other, mostly. It used to amuse the King until one day the man declared it was only distracting Harry from his princely lessons. The first accusation that led to many others as years went on. Even so, both boys did not care.

They truly were fearless, back then.

“Louis,” the King’s voice suddenly resonates and Liam promptly moves out of the way, startling Louis who is now stripped from any comfort. Louis gulps as discreetly as possible as he lifts his head to meet the dark green of the King’s eyes which are looking down on him with an odd mixture of relief and suspicion. “You’ve grown a lot in the past six years.”

Louis tries to smile but before he could actually reply, a voice behind him startles him: “I beg to differ, he still appears small.”

He frowns as Liam stiffens next to him while the King sighs, exasperated. Louis recognises the voice— kind of. It is deeper than he remembers, with a more gravelly sound acquired with age resembling the King’s. Yes, Louis knows that voice pretty well, but the snark in its tone is unfamiliar.

“Harry,” the King says, “you are late.”

“I apologise, Father,” Harry replies, not actually sounding apologetic. “Gemma got distracted by the execution and she then took all her sweet time walking down the halls.”

“You are so not funny,” Gemma groans. The siblings make their way on their father’s sides, now facing Louis. His eyes meet Harry’s and Louis unconsciously steps closer to Liam when met with the anger and intensity of Harry’s gaze. The tension gets broken, however, when Gemma excitedly claps her hands. “So is that the surprise? Louis is back?”

“Yes,” the King confirms, “hopefully, Harry, you can now stop acting up, your… _servant_ , is back.”

Louis doesn’t appreciate what the King is insinuating but he takes a deep breath instead of replying. And then the breath is taken out of him when he suddenly finds himself engulfed in Lady Gemma’s arms as she squeezes him against her.

“Oh, how I’ve missed you little guy!” she squeals.

“I’m not that little!” Louis complains, speaking for the first time since he’s entered the room.

“Your voice is as squeaky and your temper just as terrible,” the prince states, “this is going to be fun, thanks, Father.”

“He’s my servant too!” Lady Gemma protests, letting go of Louis so abruptly, Liam has to catch him as he loses his balance, “Right, Father?”

“If you wish,” the King agrees in a dismissive tone. “It is unconventional for a man to be your personal servant but I know you won’t take no as an answer.”

“Wonderful that is settled then!” The princess pats Louis’ head with a smile.

Oh, how Louis did not miss the way he feels like he is being talked about like an object. He doesn’t exactly have a choice, and he is aware of that. In a sense, the Styles royal family owns him, solely because of his father’s undeniable loyalty to the king. As a child, it didn’t feel as daunting. It even felt like having a family while his real father was busy working and his mother remained an unknown figure. Now… now suddenly, he doesn’t really feel like they are on an equal footing anymore.

“Your Majesty, may I ask, where will I sleep?” Louis asks.

“You can choose.” The King’s tone is oddly gentle but Louis suspects there is something else he expects from him he cannot express in front of his children. “Stephen prepared a room for you in his house near the castle. He hopes you will be interested in being his assistant as well when Harry and Gemma do not need your services now that your training with Aelith is complete. Or you can stay with your father in town.”

“He will stay in the castle with Stephen and by my side,” Harry speaks up before Louis could even start considering his options. “How else is he supposed to do his work efficiently if it takes him twenty minutes to come to the castle every morning?”

“Let the boy breathe, son, he hasn’t seen his father in years either.”

“By his own choice, seemingly, I really don’t understand why you didn’t drag him back here earlier when you are supposed to also care for him but you let that burden fall on that old woman’s hands.”

“Why must you have so much disdain for Aelith, I didn’t raise you to disrespect your elders as such.”

Louis stares confused as the two men start to argue back and forth, surely not expecting the King to be the empathic one in the situation. Lady Gemma looks exasperated while Liam appears as tense and uncomfortable as Louis currently feels.

“I will take Louis on a tour around the castle so he can get familiarised with it again,” Lady Gemma speaks up, her relatives barely paying her any attention so instead of waiting for a response, she grabs Louis’ arm and starts walking away, signing at Liam to follow them.

As soon as Liam closes the door behind them and he checks that the hallways are empty, the knight lets out a long, strained sigh. Lady Gemma has not let go of Louis’ arm just yet, in fact, she is grasping it firmly still as she breathes in deeply to calm herself down.

 _A lady must always be composed and elegant_ , Louis remembers her repeating while growing up as she refused to take part in the various games Harry and he came up with.

But then she lets out a groan as she starts to shake Louis.

“Can you believe what I had to endure through all those years!” Lady Gemma laments, now moving her hands to Louis’ face, looking directly into his eyes. “Never leave again!”

“T-That wasn’t of my own will, my Lady,” Louis stutters.

She seems to soften at his words, letting go of him to offer her hand instead. It does not feel proper, however, so Louis stares at it for a while before Liam jumps in.

“It might look suspicious, My Lady,” the knight reminds her, “it would not be wise to show favouritism in the castle.”

Lady Gemma huffs at that, crossing her arms. “Why must you be right all the time, Sir Liam?”

Oh right, _Sir_. Louis keeps forgetting Liam is from nobility, or he would not be a knight. He truly is the only commoner here, he realises as his joy slowly dissipates, already missing the small village of Ealdor where he found a new home with Aelith.

“Say you haven’t talked much Louis, do not let my brother intimidate you. He is an idiot.”

Liam and Louis gasp.

“Oh come off you two, he is and I am allowed to say it, I am older.” She sighs. “He is so short-sighted and impulsive. I have no idea why Father insists he will take the throne when I am right there but oh no I shall marry a royal of a neighbouring kingdom to strengthen our bond. None of these men would be able to handle me.”

She sends a purposeful look Liam’s way who gulps, lifting his hands in the air, not so subtly hiding behind Louis. “I feel like I can not say anything whether in your favour or Prince Harry’s without being accused of treason.”

“See, you are always right, Sir Liam.” She grins as she starts to walk, vaguely motioning to the two men to follow her.

If Louis did not know better, he would think Lady Gemma was flirting with Liam, but he does know better and is aware that this is just how she always behaves with her close friends. Being eight years younger than her, she has always acted like he was a small animal of some sort, coddling him and kissing his head as much as possible. Harry never let her do that to him so Louis guesses she considers him a substitute.

“Not much has changed since you have last been here,” Lady Gemma starts to explain as they walk through the long and empty halls. “My and Harry’s chambers remain the same. Liam has a room as well near Harry’s. My Father’s chamber is off limits for everyone except his servant.”

“I just— need to see Stephen, actually,” Louis requests, prompting Lady Gemma to stop in her tracks.

“Of course! He must be so excited to see you again!” she exclaims, turning around to take his hands in between hers. “You will have to tell me all about Ealdor, and Mercia. Oh! You must have travelled a little around the kingdoms, haven’t you?!”

A little intimidated by such excitement, Louis only nods. Aelith often had business in other kingdoms as she provided herbs and plants around. She always took Louis with her, mostly to keep an eye on him, he knew. The people of Ealdor did not necessarily hate people with magic as much as they do in Camelot, but with the knowledge that Louis would inevitably return back there, they could not risk even one person learning about his… curse. _Gift, Louis, that’s a gift_ , Aelith had insisted but with the way Louis was forced to hide, he doubted it. The constant travels made him familiar with the forest though he is surprised no one has asked yet how he managed to travel alone on foot from Mercia to Camelot and arrive with little to no scratches on his face.

“Gemma, let the poor boy breathe,” Liam intervenes again, seemingly dropping any formalities since Louis can hear the smile in his voice.

It encourages Louis to voice his own thoughts as well. “Please I just came back. First thing I saw was a woman’s head being cut off and then Harry is acting like he resents me. I might need some time but I promise to tell you all about the world I’ve seen outside of Camelot.”

Lady Gemma settles down, letting out a breath as she shakes her head. “Of course, silly me, sorry I’m just so happy to see you back— Harry is too but, Father sending you away made him a bit closed off. Father said it was perfect since he was more focused on his training now.”

“My departure sure appears to benefit him, huh,” Louis mumbles, though Lady Gemma and Liam catch it without any issue. “I really need to see Stephen first, could we do this tour a bit later?”

“Of course,” Lady Gemma agrees immediately, “come now so you can also drop off your belongings in your room.”

Oh right, Harry had decided for him and Louis just could not now choose to stay with his father instead. He probably should have visited him first instead of rushing to the castle.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

When younger, Louis stayed in the castle as well most of the time when he did not have to run some errands in town for other maids or Harry himself. Obviously, Louis appreciated the luxury, despite not getting a chamber of his own and a rather small bed instead in Stephen’s quarters, but at times it truly felt like Oistín — his father — did not really care about him. He knows it is ludicrous, his father is just extremely busy and as far as he is concerned, being under the King’s supervision is better than being abandoned in a dirty street as a baby. All things considered, he is very lucky.

He just misses his father, is all.

However, when he feels Stephen’s arms around him as the old man greets him after six years, he thinks that perhaps he does have a family there.

“My boy, look how you’ve grown!” Stephen exclaims and Louis grins because they are indeed at eye-level now. He even has to slightly look down.

“You could have visited,” Louis says with a grin.

“I really wish but an old man like me is no good in the wild. If anything she should be the one visiting more often.”

“But she won’t.”

There is a small pause. “She won’t,” Stephen agrees. “And I would have done everything for you to not have to come back as well regarding the circumstances but— the King and your father were eager to see you again.”

Louis perks up at that. “Wait— my father?”

“He knows.”

“About…?”

“You, and me and Aelith.”

“What.”

“We’ve got a lot to discuss.”

Louis is going to punch his father is what he is going to do. A _warning_ would have been nice.

“Don’t be mad at him,” Stephen says as if he just read Louis’ mind — which he might have. For all that is worth, Louis doesn’t even know the extent of Stephen’s magical abilities and he has no doubt that he is far more powerful than his old, frail appearance makes him seem to be.

“And why shouldn’t I? I deserved the truth from the start.”

“And you would have insisted on finding your mother and you would have ended up killed,” Stephen bluntly answers. “Your father was hoping you would not inherit her powers and he thought that under the royal family’s protection you would be the safest.”

Louis wants to huff.

“Yes I know, now you’re in more danger than anything but again, the chance of you inheriting your mother’s magic was very low.”

“Alright, can you read my mind or something?” Louis asks.

“No, but you are very expressive, my boy.”

Louis doesn’t say anything back — not that there is anything to add to that, really.

“Can he come to the castle? I doubt I will have time with the way Prince Harry and Lady Gemma seemed adamant on keeping me here,” Louis wonders out loud.

He makes it sound like he is trapped in the dungeon, he thinks to himself, not being able to hold back a small laugh because— the analogy didn’t seem too far off. Tension around the kingdom has died down — quite literally — since Louis was a kid so he figures his father must be less busy now as the supplies for weapons are not as needed as they were a few years ago.

“You didn’t write him to tell him you were coming back?” the physician asks, disbelief clear in his voice as Louis freezes at the realisation.

“I… haven’t.” Great, he feels guilty now. The last time he wrote to his father was months ago now. “I just rushed back ho- here. Before winter hit.” As he utters those words, he looks outside the window, seeing as the sun is already setting down. He will have to help serve the supper soon, he guesses. He wonders if Audrey is still the head chef of the castle, he isn’t particularly eager to see her hot-tempered attitude again.

“Well, I will tell him next time I have to go into town. I think it’s better for now if you focus on being a servant,” Stephen says. “Prince Harry was very clear about me not taking too much of your time for at least the next few weeks so I guess your role as a physician will wait. He really missed you and wants you all to himself.”

The old man laughs at that but Louis doesn’t join in. By his tone, Louis knows Stephen was not joking and even found Harry’s attitude rather endearing which confuses him deeply. Of all people, he expected Stephen to be the first one to warn him about how much Harry has changed over the years… unless he doesn’t know that Harry behaves differently. Which would be odd.

“It is not like I have a choice anyhow,” he ends up saying, effectively cutting off Stephen’s laugh who is now frowning confusedly at him. “Speaking of which, no one has asked for my presence yet but I feel like I need to go serve the prince for dinner so I should… probably go.”

He doesn’t want to, is the thing. Stephen has to physically push him out of the room for his legs to finally agree to take him to the kitchen.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

There are two other servants Louis does not recognise, and two knights guarding the door of the great hall — one of them being Liam. For the most part, supper is silent, only interrupted by the occasional clinking of the silverware or one of the royals asking their respective servant for a refill of their drink — wine, Louis guesses. It isn’t awkward per se, though Louis does not feel comfortable just standing a few steps behind Harry’s chair. The servant was literally trained to stay still and be aware of his surroundings at all times so the silence is actually pretty pleasant.

Though, as an adult, now more than ever, he still doesn’t understand why the King insists on keeping the late Queen’s chair at the table, creating such an imposing… presence in the room. Louis can see Lady Gemma glancing at it every once in a while with a sad look in her eyes and he cannot see Harry’s face but by the stiffness of his body, Louis figures the prince must be feeling tense as well.

Harry has barely addressed him or even looked at him as well. It infuriates Louis more than he cares to admit. Why is the prince visibly so upset with him yet so adamant to keep him near now that he’s back? Louis did not have a choice. Never had any choice. He wants Harry to understand that.

But apparently, Harry would rather be a royal _prat_.

“Are you sure you’ve trained? You’re sloppy and spilt some wine there,” the prince huffs after Louis fills his cup again, pointing at seemingly nothing on the wooden table, “what a disappointment.”

Louis bites his tongue to stop himself from responding, cheeks reddening as he simply pulls away and holds back the urge to just hit Harry with the jug. He sees Liam shake his head, Gemma glare at her brother and the two other servants send him a sympathetic smile but everyone remains silent.

He’s just a servant, why would any of them speak up to defend him anyway?

“Louis,” the King’s voice suddenly echoes throughout the room, prompting everyone to freeze, including Gemma and Harry who send a confused look their father’s way.

Louis straightens his back, finally looking at the older man, trying to not appear too caught off guard.

“Yes, Your Majesty?”

“I want you to stay once supper is over, I need to have a talk with you.”

He wants to ask why, but he knows he can’t so he simply nods. “Understood, Your Majesty,” he replies.

“And why is that?” Harry is the one asking anyway. Louis almost wants to sigh in relief. Almost. He is still mad at Harry.

“None of your concerns, Harry,” the King admonishes, “I am not stealing your servant away is the only thing I’ll say.”

Louis can’t help the grimace at the odd wording.

“That sounds weird,” Lady Gemma comments because apparently, the Styles siblings can read Louis’ mind now. “Which reminds me, you still haven’t told us why you sent Louis away for so long? It was only supposed to be a few weeks.”

“None of your concerns, Gemma,” the King repeats.

“It is though, he’s our friend.”

“Servant,” Harry corrects and Louis thinks he can feel his heart properly drop at the sharp tone, taking even Lady Gemma by surprise as she stares incredulously at her younger brother.

“I can’t believe you!”

“What? I’m simply stating the truth,” the prince defends himself. “Not even a good servant at that.”

Louis feels his eye twitch and a familiar burn travel down to his fingertips but he shakes his head and balls his free hand into a fist to shake off the feeling.

“If you weren’t across the table I’d slap your arrogant mouth,” she threatens. “I cannot bear spending another second in you two’s presence, I’ll be on my way,” she announces next as she stands up. “Louis, I want you to help me get ready in the morning, I’ve missed the way you braid my hair, it always looked the prettiest after a touch of your hands.”

“Of course, My Lady,” Louis promptly agrees, trying to hide his inner joy at the fond memory. He used to braid Harry’s hair with flowers as well when his hair was longer as a young child.

“What are you doing, Gemma?” Harry snarls.

“If you’re so dissatisfied with your manservant, who was supposed to be a present for you, might I add, you ungrateful brat, you can have your previous one, what was his name again? Oh, not important, I’ll gladly take Louis,” the princess grins.

“Stop this childish nonsense you two,” the King finally steps in, annoyance clear in his voice. “Maïa, Morris, clear this out,” he addresses the two servants who immediately take action. “Louis, follow me to the library.”

And just like that the older man stands up and starts walking away without waiting for Louis to follow. The servant throws a distressed look towards Lady Gemma and Liam who both wear a similar confused expression on their faces. Harry, on the other hand, is still deeply frowning, eyes uncharacteristically dark as they follow the slow movements of his father.

After a few seconds, Louis realises he should get moving but just as he makes a step forward, Harry suddenly grips his forearm, making him slightly stumble backwards with the force of it.

“Whatever he wants, don’t anger him or he will send you away again,” the prince whispers, sending shivers down Louis’ spine. These are the first words Harry has properly spoken to him, a hint of worry in his voice that almost makes Louis smile. Almost. “You will go directly to my chamber afterwards. That is a direct order.”

Harry lets go but keeps staring at him and Louis massages his arm for a few seconds, afraid a bruise would appear there on the next day. “Yes, Your Highness,” he responds in a mumble, not quite meeting Harry’s intense eyes before running after the King.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Fortunately enough, the King doesn’t notice the time he took before he actually followed him — or he did not care, either way, Louis thinks he has done a good job at hiding his exhaustion once he finally catches up with the Monarch just as they face the wooden door of the royal library.

Louis breathes in just as the King stops moving, obviously waiting for Louis to open the door for him. With shaking hands, he pushes the door, the wood creaking against his ear. He cringes, forcing his body to stop shivering.

“I mean you no harm, little one,” the King suddenly speaks up, startling Louis with the name. The King has never referred to him as anything else but his name so the kind tone is odd and the servant now knows the royal most likely has a request for him. “So please stop cowering.”

Easier said than done, Louis thinks with his sharp tongue but he remains silent, just nodding as he looks up at the King, cold green days looking down at him.

“Good. Let’s walk a little further, there is a section of the library that will interest you that Aelith could not provide you in Ealdor.”

This intrigues Louis. He nods as he simply follows the King through the rows of books. The King’s pattens resonate throughout the empty place, slow, steady, heavy. The library is bathed in darkness with only a few candles lit up dangerously in between books. Louis wonders why no one is worried about that, one wrong move and all this rich knowledge would burst into flames.

It feels like they have been walking forever before the King finally stops in front of a door situated in between two shelves. Louis tilts his head as the old man simply opens the door, stepping aside for Louis to walk in first, which doesn’t seem right to the servant but he does so before the King could order him.

So he steps into the dusty, retrieved place, bringing his left hand to his chest, playing with the metal around his middle finger to calm his racing heart. The room is dark — and small. He can spot a desk by the small window, an open book, and a forgotten quill laying there as well.

“This was Stephen’s old study room,” the King’s voice makes him jump. “You are his apprentice now so it only makes sense you can have this room. He has compiled a lot of books for you and now that Aelith taught you the basics and how to read in other languages as well, this should be enlightening.”

“Really?!” Louis can’t help but let his excitement slip through his voice. The King only nods. “That’s… that is incredible, thank you, Your Majesty.”

“I owe Stephen and your father a lot, and I don’t doubt my children will be overwhelming so consider this place a way for you to escape for a while.” Louis’ smile falters a little when he notices the King’s face somehow grow even more serious. “I do have a request, however. In exchange for this place, let’s say.”

Again with the compromise that is quite unnecessary since he is the king and Louis, a mere commoner despite the peculiar fact that he was raised in a castle. Louis wonders if Stephen had a play in that because he doubts Oistìn can have any influence on the King’s behaviour.

“What is it?”

“Have you located the Druids?” the King asks then as he skims through a shelf, choosing one thick book, earning a confused reaction from Louis.

“The Druids? Do they not travel in different sorts of clans?”

“Precisely, I have reasons to believe some of them are planning an attack against the kingdom.”

Louis frowns as the old man suddenly gives him the book once he’s found the page he was looking for — it was a page about the _Old Religion_. The Druids’ heritage. Descendants of powerful wizards and witches alike that once ruled the land of Albion until they decided one day to retreat into the Brocéliande forest and away from the Kingdoms they had created, only intervening when the situation seemed hopeless. Louis mostly learned their basic spells and enchantments from Aelith and the powerful curses he was never allowed to use as it could corrupt his being — namely, bringing the dead back to life being the most obvious one. Aelith did not have much information about their history or how nor why the Druids became secluded and managed to survive while cut from the rest of the land.

“But aren’t they pacifist people?” he asks. “Do they not live by the fact that no life should be sacrificed?”

The King’s features darken then. “Afraid they are not anymore. Harry was attacked while he was hunting the other day. I am not sure how he even survived.”

Perhaps because they actually did not intend on attacking him, Louis ponders but is wise enough to keep his mouth shut as the King pursues his pacing in front of him. _If time may require it, I do believe they would try to restore balance into Albion, whether by force or through a powerful spell_ , he remembers Aelith telling him.

“You know Brocéliande better than my knights, Aelith made sure of it,” the King continues, lightning travelling down to Louis’ fingertips upon hearing those words. He subtly cracks his knuckles after putting the book down, internalising the energy again. “And the Druids wouldn’t suspect you if they found you.”

Louis really doesn’t like where this is going.

“I will need you,” the royal monarch states bluntly.

“To… do what exactly?” the servant asks, trying to keep his voice steady.

“To guide Harry and his knights through the forest next time they go hunting. Your goal will be to try to locate the Druids or at least their latest hideouts while the others will be busy tracking animals. After every hunt, I want you to write it down in this book, even if you find nothing. If you do find something major, however, you need to immediately tell me. I will tell my guards and Morris that you are allowed in my chambers. You cannot be mistaken for a knight so you will have to go without any armour but your father is forging a dagger as we speak for you.”

Oh, so his father knows too in the end?

“This shall stay in between you, Stephen, your father, and I. Is that understood?”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Louis replies immediately with a slight bow. He startles a little when the King’s hand rests on his head for a moment, patting lightly.

This is weird, he doesn’t like it.

“Good.”

The King then slides a small key into his hand before turning around and leaving. Louis stares at it for a moment, digesting what just happened and the huge role that was just put on his shoulders.

Betrayal. He is asked to betray his own kind. All the while endangering himself. He doesn’t know how to defend himself without magic and thus outing himself! He should ask Liam to train him without looking too suspicious. He swallows.

Not that he ever had a choice, really.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

“So, what did Father want?” is the first thing Louis hears as soon as he opens the door to the prince’s chambers.

“I cannot tell you or I would be hung,” the servant replies honestly as he carefully makes his way inside under Harry’s intense gaze who is still in his royal attire. Right. Louis is supposed to help him prepare for bed. Is he really unable to remove the few pieces of clothing on him on his own? Louis could understand Lady Gemma needing helping considering the garments and jewellery on her body but Harry barely has anything on him.

“I cannot understand this old man. He never tells us anything anymore,” Harry complains and there is a hint of sadness in there. If it were six years ago, Louis would have made things better with a hug and reassuring words but as it is now, he is not sure where the boundaries lay anymore.

The unanswered letters remain at the forefront of his mind.

“Louis, what are you doing just standing there? You’re so silent, that isn’t like you.”

“A servant is not supposed to talk unless spoken to outside of good mornings and good nights,” Louis answers as he makes his way towards Harry. “Unless I’m given permission to talk freely, do I have it?”

There’s a hint of a smile on the prince’s lips as he watches Louis get closer. “There’s your sharp tongue. Also no, now help me remove my clothes.”

And so Louis does, wordlessly. He keeps his breath as steady as possible, feeling Harry’s body warmth under his fingertips and the boy’s unwavering eyes on him. They are facing each other, Louis is not sure why or if he will be able to handle it much longer. He keeps his eyes low in order to avoid having to meet Harry’s gaze but it has the unwelcome result of making him stare at Harry’s body instead.

He gulps because up until now he hadn’t realised how much Harry has grown since the last time they saw each other. The older boy has always been taller than Louis, that much hasn’t changed, but the years of training are showing as Louis can feel the prince’s firm muscles as he gently removes the different pieces of clothing. When Louis left, Harry’s training was only starting. He was clumsy, and kinda weak, always finishing the day with a bruise and a scratch somewhere, as opposed to Liam who quickly got familiar with the art of manipulating a sword and other weapons at barely ten.

Louis would be curious to see a fight between the two— and he surely will, in the future. He wonders which other knights joined in since his departure. Growing up, he never met other children of nobles outside of Liam.

Soon enough, Harry is shirtless in front of him and for a brief moment, neither of them moves. Louis breathes in sharply, clutching the clothes in his arms as his eyes stare at the royal family’s pendent around Harry’s neck. The Queen’s favourite jewellery, he’s been told. He freezes when Harry’s hands suddenly settle on his shoulders.

“Eyes are up there,” the prince states flatly.

Louis chuckles weakly and then takes a big step back, absolutely not lifting his head up. He thinks he’s blushing and he is not letting Harry see that.

“Sorry, I will put away your clothes,” he rushes to say, turning around to walk towards a stool near the fireplace. He kneels down there as he gently folds the clothes for another servant to pick up for washing later.

When he gets up and turns around again, Harry has already made himself comfortable in his bed. Louis lets out a small breath. Quickly, he goes to draw the curtains close and blows off the candle on Harry’s study that was the only source of light until now.

“Good night, My Prince,” the servant says.

“Sleep well, Louis,” the prince answers and it must be the kindest tone the boy has used with Louis since his arrival.

Louis bites his lower lip, hesitant, seeing an opening in Harry’s half-asleep’s state already. He takes it.

Harry may have become a prat but for some reason, Louis is still convinced that he could do anything and the prince would never fault him.

“And… Harry?” Louis asks. Harry just grunts in response, not even reprimanding him for talking unprompted or even addressing him with his name. “I— huh, I missed you.”

Silence stretches out for a couple of minutes before Louis realises he is not going to get any sort of reply so he just quickly makes his way out, ignoring the burning feeling in his fingertips — and his cheeks.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

He can’t sleep. His hands feel like they are on fire, waiting for him to act on all his frustration and let it all out with magic and it has never been this bad before. Magic is intricately linked to the sorcerer’s emotions, which Louis had to learn the hard way, but one needs to learn to balance it all out as internalisation is equally as harmful.

And, well, Louis has been doing just that all day. It has only been a day though, and he’s gone weeks before without using his magic and repressing it. Something is not right, something is telling him to _move_.

He groans, finally sitting up as his head starts to pound. He grumbles to himself, diving deep into his memory trying to find any spell that could at least lessen the ache while he prepares a tonic when a sudden, deep, unrecognisable voice rings through his mind.

_Louis. Secret passage under the castle. Do hurry._

“What—”

He frowns, shaking his head and ignoring the voice at first. He stands up, quietly walking out of his room to Stephen’s pantry but nearly drops a jar of herbs when the voice rings even louder.

_Don’t ignore me young warlock._

Louis glares at the wall.

_Hurry. I have been waiting for you._

He should probably feel scared. Instead, he is annoyed because this has happened before while he was staying with Aelith, the very morning his magic suddenly manifested and a voice led him to the fairies realm in the Brocéliande forest or well, near it since he broke down before he could search for the actual entrance. Granted, that first time, the voice wasn’t as deep and intimidating as whatever creature is trying to communicate with him at the moment. It was the voice of a young boy that he suspects was the same age as him.

So he reluctantly grabs his cloak, throwing it around his shoulders, the fabric falling down to his shoes. He makes his way out as quietly as possible, passing by Stephen’s sleeping form. As he reaches the empty court, hiding from a few guards making their rounds, the voice resonates again, almost making him stumble and fall.

_Through the dungeon. There is no one held captive at the moment, no guards. You should be able to find the entrance, young warlock._

“So you’re telling me this castle is as badly guarded as when I was a child?” he mutters.

_Perhaps so. I believe one day you almost found me before Lady Gemma interrupted._

At that, Louis perks up, somehow perfectly knowing where to look for. With more confidence, he runs towards the entrance of the dungeon, grabbing a torch on the wall on his way. As the voice predicted, no one is making rounds, cells as empty as the humid and tight walls. He ventures deep, ignoring the potent smell of rotten flesh which he’d rather not think too long about, before finding it, poorly hidden behind rocks.

A dark wooden door that almost blends in with the wall if it wasn’t for the shiny lock peeking through.

And Louis doesn’t have a key. But he has magic.

_Don’t even think about turning around, Louis._

“And if I get caught I’ll be dead!” he whisper-shouts.

_When you leave just don’t forget to put the lock back on. You are smarter than that, young warlock._

Louis can’t decide if the voice is encouraging him or insulting him now. He takes a quick look around before muttering _“Allinan”_ while looking straight at the lock. It opens immediately and Louis rushes forward to catch it before it rattles against the floor.

Louis manages to slide in the slight entrance, careful as to not move the rocks around too much. He quietly closes the door behind him. And then he stares at the stairs in front of him, descending into pure darkness. Louis gulps.

Brandishing his torch ahead as to not fall, he carefully makes his way down the slippery steps. After what feels like hours, the ground seems to finally flatten, only for him to be faced with three paths.

_Right one, then left, left again, and middle._

Right then.

Refusing to spend more time than necessary in this odd cave under the castle, Louis speeds up, almost running as he keeps a hand against the walls.

He slows down as he approaches the end of the tunnel, leading up to a deep cavern. The temperature seems to suddenly drop as a shiver runs through Louis’ body, making him whine a little. He carefully makes his way towards the edge, gulping at the emptiness greeting his eyes below him.

“Hello?” he speaks up, at last, his voice echoing back to him against the cavern’s walls.

He waits for what feels like an eternity again, he waits for the voice to bother his mind again but only silence surrounds him up until he suddenly sees a black shadow arise from the darkness below and he gasps, quickly stepping back with his free hand reached forward, ready to throw any attack the shadow’s way.

But then he freezes when two golden eyes emerge from the unknown figure, now staring back at him intensely.

“Look how small you are… for such a great destiny awaiting you,” the creature speaks in the voice that has been bothering the servant all night, the force of his breath alone able to make Louis stumble a couple more steps back as he groans. He can not escape comments about his height even from a… dragon?

He blinks as the realisation downs on him. There is a dragon, a _huge_ dragon, staring down at him with big golden eyes in which he swears fires are burning. Louis cannot decipher the colour of his scales with the overwhelming darkness surrounding them and the torch in his hand barely providing any true source of light. He has half a mind to cast a spell of light but the sounds of shackles as the dragon properly sits on a rock distracts him.

The dragon is trapped here.

“What do you mean? What destiny?” Louis asks instead, “How do you even know my name? And how are you here?”

He should probably be more surprised or scared, even. From what Aelith told him, all dragons had been killed during the Great Purge alongside sorcerers and dragon lords. Yet, here is one in front of him whose voice has been keeping him up at night. Not being a dragon lord herself, Aelith, unfortunately, could not teach him a lot about dragons despite his unexplainable fascination with them when he learned about their once existence.

"That is a lot of questions we do not have the time to tackle, Alaois." Louis frowns at the name. _Alaois_? He has another question to add to his mental list now. "Your destiny is to bring magic back to this kingdom."

"Um... are you going to tell me how?"

"I cannot, but I can warn you," the dragon says as he lowers his head to get a better look at the small sorcerer, leaning closer to the edge. If Louis stood a little closer, he could probably touch the creature, feel his scales under his fingertips. He wonders what they feel like, he has only encountered furry animals while in Mercia. He snaps out of his fascination when the grand winged creature speaks again, voice echoing loudly around them, "Harry is the once and future King and I believe you were given your gift while being his royal servant for a reason."

"I am pretty sure it is just biology, not a gift."

Louis startles when the dragon lets out what seems to be a huffed laugh. It sounded vaguely like a grunt as well but the amusement in the orange of the creature's eyes tells him it is definitely a positive reaction.

"It is refreshing to know you have quite the attitude behind this docile looking facade," the dragon comments and Louis is not sure if he should be offended or feel complimented. "But I am being serious. There must be a reason you are here and that destiny decided to put you and the Prince so close together while danger is arising."

"How can I be responsible for the life of a spoiled prince with my magic, though?" Louis asks, indulging in this whole destiny thing though deep down he feels like there is something else there at stake for the dragon but he might as well just let him talk.

"Perhaps that is your _destiny_ to discover," is the response he gets and alright, this must be a joke. As he looks up, he sees the dragon smile. "You are this kingdom's, and Harry's, only hope, Alaois."

"That is not my name," Louis refutes, "you must have me confused with someone else."

"I am not, as I was captured twenty years ago, I was told an Alaois would discover his magic and settle back in Camelot. It is your name."

"Pretty sure my father would disagree." The dragon lets out another concealed laugh and Louis feels oddly proud at the lightheartedness of it all.

In and of itself, he has just been told the fate of a whole kingdom and someone's life depend on him but he would very much like to ignore that fact as long as possible for now, he has enough on his plate already.

"I just wanted to see what the face of Camelot's possible saviour looked like," the creature then speaks again in a more solemn tone. “You just came back but great danger awaits you, I am afraid.” Louis frowns because the dragon looks rather excited, though he guesses that, being chained under a castle, not a lot of interesting things cross his path. “Be aware of friendly faces for they may be the most deceiving. Know you can come back here if you find yourself lost I am at your service.”

The dragon doesn’t give Louis the time to ask more questions as he simply turns around, diving back down into the darkness and leaving a confused Louis in his wake, his torch going out because of the strength of the dragon’s wings.

“This place was so badly hidden, by the way, how comes no one ever found a _dragon_ under the castle,” he grumbles to himself as he makes his way back, swiftly muttering a spell and twisting his wrist to create a ball of light. Hopefully, he can finally get some sleep now. For all he knows all of this was simply a fever dream and after such an eventful day he cannot be bothered to really question everything just yet.

The first rays of dawn greet him when he makes it out of the dungeon and he holds back a groan as he rubs his eyes to try to pry the tiredness away.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Louis goes through the motion without much of a thought to himself the next day. Lady Gemma does not comment on his silence in the morning as he does her hair, probably attributing his odd behaviour to him still adjusting back to life in the castle. Louis does feel a little guilty because he can see in the princess’ eyes how eager she is to hear about Louis’ past six years but stops herself out of respect.

Harry, on the other hand, is another story. He makes Louis run around the castle to bring him something that he doesn’t even use in the end, all that with very little discussion between them. Liam, who has to be there as well as Harry’s personal guard, sends him sympathetic smiles and rubs the back of his neck whenever he can to soothe the servant’s mind like he used to do when they were younger. Louis is still trying to figure out how to fulfill the King’s desires, the dragon’s cryptic prophecy, and Harry’s petty demands.

A simple servant. He’s only a simple servant.

Right now, however, he and Harry are alone as they make their way towards The Rising Sun, the local tavern near the castle, while Liam was called to give a speech to new knights into the army as the soon-to-be commander once his father decides to step down — or dies, but no one truly wants to think about this possibility.

Louis is not sure what they are supposed to do in the tavern, Harry hardly explains anything to him anyway, but when he enters the place and is greeted by pure chaos, he can take a few guesses upon seeing the intoxicated knights in the back and the broken tables literally in the middle of the place.

Harry seems to be about to tell Louis something when the latter suddenly gets bumped by someone, pushing him right into the prince’s arms who catches him just before he can get acquainted with the floor.

“My bad sorry!” an unknown voice speaks up and then Louis feels a hand grip his arm forcefully, pulling him back up. He yelps, almost losing his balance again but the stranger puts his hands on his shoulders, grounding him. “You don’t seem too shaken.”

Louis’ head feels a little dizzy, actually, so he doesn’t manage to say anything, only taking a step back to get closer to Harry again, glancing at the man at the same time as the prince does.

The man nonchalantly smiles, crossing his arms around his chest, blue eyes glinting in amusement at being so scrutinised. He is wearing armour but by Harry’s clear distrust, Louis guesses that he isn’t one of the new knights that joined today. He isn’t tall either, but he’s broad, and by the few scratches the man has on his face, he must have arrived at Camelot only recently after a long journey in the Brocéliande forest.

After a few moments, the stranger offers his hand which Louis tentatively shakes. A shiver shakes his body at the lack of warmth radiating from the man. That is odd, very odd, but he tries to keep a neutral face. The man is no warlock, Louis cannot feel any sort of magic within him but something isn’t right either.

“I’m Niall,” the man introduces himself, a bright smile upon his lips as he eagerly looks into Louis’ similar blue eyes.

“Louis,” says back, finally letting go of the hand. Niall’s smile doesn’t falter.

“And why are you here?” Harry asks, not bothering to introduce himself, proudly showing off Camelot’s royal emblem on his chest, looking down on the smiling stranger with a raised eyebrow. Louis wants to scold him but bites his tongue.

“Do I need a reason to drink in here? I got money, I’m not a thief,” Niall says, holding up both of his hands.

“You’ve got a sword,” the prince points out.

Louis perks at that, eyes immediately going to the outsider’s belt to see a scabbard resting against Niall’s right hip.

“And I’m not the only one around here, so why such scrutiny? Is your little servant off-limit and I can’t speak with him without your permission, your Highness?”

Harry’s eye twitch and Louis is scared he is about to proclaim a death sentence right here and there. Fortunately, the Prince only breathes deeply through his nose, not saying anything and instead turning towards Louis.

“I have a few requests to pass to the tavern’s owner, I’ll be back in a moment, don’t move.”

Louis nods. “Yes, my prince.”

A hint of a smile appears on Harry’s smile, or at least Louis believes he sees it appear, a hint of the Harry he used to know, before the prince walks away, ignoring Niall snickering on the side.

“You’ve got a lot of nerves, openly laughing at the prince,” the servant comments once Harry is far enough.

Niall shrugs, seemingly calming down now under Louis’ gaze. “He’s got no rights over me.”

“Which kingdom are you from?”

“Mercia.”

Louis nods, eyes focusing on Mercia’s emblem engraved on the man’s chest plate, a double-headed eagle. “A knight?”

“By title? No. By heart? Yes. I am no nobility, you see, but I bet I could win against any of your knights here. Trained all my life, won a few tournaments here and there.” The so-called knight’s words are slurred, a direct effect from the alcohol he is still gulping down in front of Louis. The servant wants to join in the fun, hand hitching to reach for a tankard but he knows he cannot allow himself the freedom while Harry still needs his assistance or he’d be as good as dead.

“Be careful with your words, if any of them hears they would not hesitate to challenge you.”

“You’re cute, you think that’s not my exact intent?” Niall grins wide. It is almost maniac. Louis remains quiet. “I’ve travelled so much, seen too many things, I’m just searching for some excitement I guess.”

“In a land devoid of magic? Surely, you have seen better than Camelot.”

The knight shrugs. “Regular humans can be the cruelest.”

Louis stops breathing for a few seconds as he notices Niall’s face significantly darken. There is a story there to unfold and Louis wonders if he should watch his back. He might have been back for barely a day now but he’s had his fair share of encounters with individuals that resent the royal family and _him_ by extension in Mercia and other kingdoms. They usually aren’t vocal or blunt about it but Niall doesn’t seem to have any fear about the consequences his words and actions could have.

As long as he is in Camelot land and under no protection from Mercia’s royal family since he is a simple commoner despite his attire, the Styles can sentence him to any punishment they see fit.

A death sentence is not out of the question.

“I assume you will be staying here for a while then?” Louis asks, finally sitting down when it seems like Harry might take longer than expected.

Niall nods. “Words going around that the prince was attacked during a hunt, came here out of curiosity. His pretty face doesn’t seem to have any scratches or anything so my bet is that the stories are exaggerated.”

“Do those stories at least name what attacked him?”

The knight raises an eyebrow. “You’re his manservant and you don’t know?”

“I’m only a servant, not his confidant.”

“Fair enough. In Mercia they say it was just some outlaws that escaped the castle’s dungeon lately — there have been a lot of escapees. But as soon as I arrived in Camelot it was all about how the Druids were at the origin of the attack? Which doesn’t make sense, they wouldn’t attack the prince.”

“Why?”

“They’d go straight for the king, obviously.”

“That would be quite the audacious move, the King has guards around him at all times.”

“They’re powerful sorcerers, no one truly knows what they’re capable of.”

Well, Louis feels like Niall has some sort of knowledge given how confidently he is talking about them and this hypothetical plan of attack.

“The prince is no threat, he is still quite young, it wouldn’t need much to change his perspective,” the knight continues. “The Druids are powerful but ultimately, killing anyone related to him would prove King Desmond’s point about magic.”

“But killing him would also prove his point,” Louis points out as he finally takes a seat next to Niall who doesn’t startle but sends him an interested look. “The people of Camelot would be afraid they are next. They are… very loyal.” Though slightly afraid of the royal family’s wrath.

“And what are their stances on the prince? If he ever had to take the throne earlier than expected, would they start an upheaval?” Niall asks, sliding a tankard to Louis’ side but the servant just pushes it back towards him. He really can’t drink and risk inebriety while serving supper later.

“I cannot say much without risking my head on the next public execution,” the servant says finally. He also cannot say much about the royal family to a complete stranger and he is afraid he’s already done that.

“This kingdom sounds so fun,” Niall says in a clear sarcastic tone. “I wanna know more about you. How did you even end up as a servant?”

“Circumstances, mostly. My father is one of the blacksmiths and I was still a baby while The Purge was going on. He was busy all the time and he and the King decided it would be best to raise me in the castle. The prince and Lady Gemma took a liking to me, I guess, so I grew up in the castle. Father and the King figured that I might as well become their servant in the future. Originally I was just supposed to follow my father’s footsteps but, well, things took a turn.”

“So do you know how to forge swords though?”

“I do, actually,” Louis proudly states. “In theory. I never— actually tried to put into practice what I constantly heard my father tell me. On top of that, I was sent away for a few years, I’ve only been back for a day and a half.”

Niall whistles. “Agitated life you’ve got there, I feel inadequate now.”

“You’re a self-proclaimed knight who travelled around?”

“Yes, but it was pretty boring. Not much up and downs in my life. Grew up in a small village in Mercia. Once, the Queen sent some knights there to help with bandits stealing our crops. I got fascinated. Started training despite people telling me it was useless since I wasn’t of noble blood. Left once I was old and strong enough and I’ve never looked back.”

Louis hums. It sounds agitated nonetheless, he thinks. Niall doesn’t look any older than him, perhaps one or two years, like Harry, so he must have been in his teenagehood when he decided to leave his home village, roughly at the same time Louis did the opposite — finding refuge in a small town.

“Any parents?” he asks eventually, wondering why the knight seems so… indifferent at the idea of returning where he comes from.

Niall shakes his head. “Both died when I was young. I never learned what happened to them, they left one day and never returned. My uncle took care of me. He died shortly before I left. Got nothing to return to.”

“Oh… I’m sorry.”

“That’s alright,” Niall dismisses but for some reason, the unsettling feeling in Louis’ heart remains. He has no idea why Niall’s story seems to trigger a foreboding in him. “What about you? Well, I mean, what about your mother?”

Louis pouts a little, eyes avoiding Niall’s. “She… disappeared.”

“Died too?”

It’s Louis’ turn to shake his head, his eyes automatically landing on a shiny piece of jewellery on his right hand. Barely perceivable unless your attention is on it, hence why he guesses no one has really asked him about it, though he suspects Stephen already knows what it is. He feels without any issue Niall staring at it as well as he drums his fingers on the table. “I don’t think so.”

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

_Louis had been in Ealdor for two years when Aelith sat him at the dining table, a sombre look on her face while she held a peculiar brooch shaped like a lily in her hands that Louis found himself staring at instead of the old woman._

_“Do you miss your mother, Louis?” Aelith asked that day, voice filled with a pain Louis could not understand at the time._

_“Not really, I never met her,” Louis easily answered, albeit confused at the sudden interrogation._

_“Aren’t you a little curious? You have magic, Louis, it can only mean she was a witch.”_

_“So she most likely died during the Great Purge. Father and the King used to say she died trying to protect me from another witch.”_

_“Or she escaped.”_

_Louis frowned. “And she would have left me behind?”_

_“Well— If Camelot knew she was a witch you probably wouldn’t have been alive. They killed newborns and children of warlocks just in case they had magic in them that hadn’t manifested yet. And if she had tried to take you with her, she would have looked more suspicious. All mothers leaving with their children were executed on the spot.”_

_“And father— father couldn’t escape with her because of his connection to the King.”_

_“Especially as the finest blacksmith in the kingdom, my child. He had to provide the weapons killing his wife’s kind.”_

_Louis’ blood ran cold at the realisation. He felt angry, angry that his father did not take a stand to try to protect ones that were probably close to him but then the anger settled down at the thought that if he had, Louis would either be an orphan to this day or simply and bluntly_ dead _._

 _“Your father sent me this brooch,” Aelith continued, sliding the brooch Louis’ way. Louis immediately grabbed it, fingers grazing the little details on the gold, finding small “O.T”, “J.T” and “L.” engraved on the side — his father’s work, he would recognise it anywhere. “Your mother supposedly enchanted it with a message to you. She… clearly was—_ is _, more powerful than I am because I could not find any spell that would unlock the message. My guess is also that she must have done something so only you can solve this someday.”_

_“But how?” Louis asked._

_“I’m afraid that is the one thing I cannot teach you and that you will have to find on your own.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I rewrote the scene with the dragon so many times because I ended up not liking the whole prophecy thing and pretending I took it seriously ajkfhkd anyway here it is for the first chapter, a lot of exposition and Niall appearing at the end. Next chapter promises a little more ~action~


	2. Friend or Foe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Louis tries to understand Harry's odd behaviour, he finds himself a little forced to trust Niall after an incident during the hunt in which he kind of slips up with his magic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has a little more of exposition about how this world work and a lil diving into the dynamic between Harry/Louis/Liam in the past. If it bothers anyone, I can say flashbacks are less frequent in future chapters as the story picks up :'')
> 
> Once again a big thank you to [Lou](https://twitter.com/lwtwinters) for beta-ing for me!!
> 
> [Tumblr Post](https://lwtisloved.tumblr.com/post/640491465750003712/truth-behind-golden-eyes-by-myenglishrose-a) ¦¦ [Twitter Post](https://twitter.com/darlinlou/status/1350504077084520450?s=20)  
> Please don't hesitate to drop by x

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

_The day they met Liam, Louis spent it watching from a distance as the future knight and the prince had their first ever training. He was fascinated, though quite disturbed by how fearlessly the two boys handled their swords, seemingly unafraid of hurting the other._

_Well, that observation wasn’t quite right, really. Liam obviously was more used to fighting, what with being the son’s Commander, compared to Harry who kept stumbling and falling forward, but the prince was fast and had quick reflexes to compensate for his clumsiness._

_Harry did not like Liam for a while, always grumbling about how his presence reduced the time he could spend playing with Louis and— it was true. Ever since Liam showed up at the doors of the castle, he and Louis had been apart more often than together during the day. Harry had to train, and Louis… Louis was bored, actually._

_His whole life he was told that all he had to do was follow Harry around, keep him happy and entertained but what was he supposed to do when the prince was busy? He was not allowed outside of the castle, thus preventing him from going to his father and he was not allowed in Gemma’s quarters either without Harry by his side._

_That was how, whenever Liam was there, he started to stay in the library or by Stephen’s side, constantly asking what he was doing until the old man decided that he might as well teach him how to read._

_“I don’t think Harry likes me,” Liam told him one day, roughly a month or so since he started living in the castle._

_Louis was trying to read his first book when the soon-to-be knight jogged to him. They had already talked a few times, mostly when Harry had his back turned and Liam was always the one to initiate the conversation. Louis did not really understand why._

_“He doesn’t like changes…” Louis replied, patting the grass next to him, inviting the older boy to join him. He didn’t know where Harry was currently, he just assumed the prince was now at his horse riding lesson if Liam could sit down and take a break too. “I don’t know why... monotony gets boring…” He had to admit that his own little heart was longing for more than his sheltered life inside the castle. Liam was the most exciting thing that happened to him in a while._

_“What are you reading? I did not know you could read,” Liam changed the subject then, happily sitting next to the servant and glancing at the yellow pages with interest._

_“Started learning just recently,” Louis said, frowning as he tried to decipher some words, “It’s hard…”_

_“Can you write?”_

_“Not yet…”_

_“I could try to teach you.”_

_Louis perked up at that, looking up to meet the gentle brown of Liam’s eyes. “Really?”_

_The boy smiled sheepishly, looking down on the grass with rosy cheeks. He plucked a flower, twirling it in his gloved hands. Louis watched, fascinated by the sudden shyness exhibited from this boy he had seen fight Harry relentlessly with confidence. “We don’t have anything else to do, it could be fun.”_

_“I’d really love to!” Louis exclaimed, eyes shining bright as he closed his book shut to instead turn around in order to properly face Liam._

_The action seemed to stun the other boy for a few instants, Liam blinking at him, a dazed look in his eyes. The noble boy then chuckled to himself. “You’re_ adorable _.” As he said those words, Liam gently tucked the flower on the right side of Louis’ hair, startling the latter. “So you can officially be my friend.”_

_“Friend?” Louis repeated, smiling a little as he grazed his fingers over the daisy now decorating his hair. He felt pretty, no wonder Gemma loved when he braided her hair with flowers. It felt and smelt nice._

_“Friend,” Liam assured with an excited nod, suddenly getting up with a fist up in the air as he exclaims, “I’ll protect you too. I’ll be the best knight out there!”_

_“I’m not a prince, just a servant though…” Louis murmured with a small giggle. “I don’t need protecting.”_

_Liam tilted his head. “And? Harry said you are precious and my father said that the duty of the prince’s guard is to keep everything he values as important safe.”_

_Louis smiled. “I like you.”_

_The older boy smiled back. “I like you too, but don’t tell Harry that or he won’t be happy.”_

_The servant laughed softly again. “It has always been the two of us— and Gemma. He’ll get around it someday.”_

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

“My poor Louis, you look beaten,” Liam says with a small smile as he crouches down to Louis’ level, sat on the grass.

Louis only groans in response. The knights and Harry are having a training session and by the looks of it, from an outsider’s perspective, it appears as if Louis has been the one training for hours compared to Liam’s steady breathing and overall clean appearance despite the hours under the sun in heavy armour.

“Prince Harry had me running around for nothing again, I’ve spent years just sitting, writing and reading, I need to build up the endurance still. Also, this Niall guy can’t stay silent during the night,” Louis complains.

Liam hums. “Where is he now? I still haven’t properly met him. Made an impression on Prince Harry— and you, if you’re willing to share a bed with him. He could have stayed at the inn.”

“You make it sound rather promiscuous,” the servant comments with a grimace and Liam laughs lightly. “He’s eccentric, I don’t know, I’d rather keep an eye on him?”

It wasn’t actually planned. After that first encounter, Louis found Niall again outside of The Rising Sun, stumbling and singing to himself as the sun set. Louis was done with his duties as a servant, having endured another evening of Harry being gentle yet cold while hidden in the privacy of his chambers and Louis was just looking forward to sleeping. He tried to avoid Niall but the knight spotted him fairly easily and draped himself over Louis’ shoulders, words slurred and eyes glazed. He then told Louis the funny story of how his big mouth got him kicked out of the inn and he was wondering if the woods had settled down.

Louis ended up bringing him to Stephen’s house. The physician surprisingly did not make any comment as he simply put out a second mattress next to Louis’, on which they just threw the knight who was already snoring against Louis’ neck by then.

It has been a week and Niall hasn’t gone away or tried to go back to the inn and Louis feels like he doesn’t intend on leaving anytime soon anyway. He’s not a nuisance during the day and doesn’t follow Louis around — in fact, he doesn’t… know what Niall does during the day — but he just snores and moves a lot during the night and since he refuses to remove his armour unless he needs to wash it and, well. Stephen is just glad he cannot hear anything from where he sleeps in the house.

He is an odd human being.

“That should be my job,” Liam remarks, “Do you think he might be a threat to the prince?”

 _The Prince, no, but perhaps the King._ Besides, he seems to know a bit about the Druids which might be useful to Louis if he could get him to speak.

The smaller boy shakes his head but then frowns. “I can’t decide if his cheerfulness and naivety is an act or him purely being an idiot, just this past week I had to save him from a possible death sentence by Lady Gemma,” Louis admits. That was an achievement in of itself as she usually rarely ever loses her temper in front of strangers and she absolutely despises the idea of a death sentence so it just seems like Niall has a special gift that is pissing off the Styles siblings. God knows what would happen if he met the King.

“I think he should join us in training or hunting,” the knight says, making Louis’ eyes widen. “I know I know, it could be dangerous if he has ill intentions but I keep hearing he thinks he is such a good fighter, I’m curious.”

“I’ve got my own personal knight guard now, afraid he stole your duty,” Louis points out with a wide smile as the knight pouts.

“He sounds like more of a danger to you during the night than actual protection,” Liam counters and Louis shrugs, not having any argument. “Tell him about this, I’ll try to convince Prince Harry. We have another hunt in two days. With the recent attacks, and you to keep safe, one more person there with us probably is a good idea. Though I continue to find it ludicrous that you have to come, it is a safety hazard.”

Louis smiles softly, reaching a hand forward to pat Liam’s arm while he pokes the knight’s forehead with his other hand, to soothe the worried lines that had appeared there.

“Prince’s and King’s orders. Don’t worry too much about me, I wouldn’t be the target if the Druids do actually attack. I know those woods better than any of you, I’ve survived the journey from Mercia to here alone. Don’t underestimate me, alright?”

Liam huffs out a laugh, taking Louis’ hands in his and gently kissing his already bruised fingers. “Feisty as ever, I’m so happy to have you back.”

Louis’ heart flutters at the words, warmth spreading all over his body. He wants to hug Liam but he gets distracted, seeing movement behind the knight before he can properly decipher Harry running up to them. The servant tries to pull away and stand up again so he wouldn’t get yelled at for laying around but Liam doesn’t budge, tightening his hold on his hands with a mischievous glint in his eyes as he looks at the smaller boy. Louis blinks, taken aback.

“What are you two doing?” Harry’s voice booms now standing and looming over them. Louis gulps, not sure if he is supposed to even respond given the harsh tone but fortunately Liam speaks before he could.

“Simply talking and checking that the little guy is not breaking apart, My Prince.” The knight grins big and Harry’s right eye twitches. “With all due respect, you’ve been quite ruthless, we don’t want another incident.”

At that, Louis frowns, confused by that statement. Was there another manservant before him who… got hurt somehow?

“You’ve gotten bold yourself Liam since Louis came back,” Harry snarls, frown still in place as he glares at their joined hands. “Now come back, these idiots still struggle to hold a sword, put some sense into them. Louis, you have the rest of the day to yourself, Stephen told me your father has something to give you so go do that, I suppose.”

The dismissive yet angry tone confuses Louis but Liam only snickers when Harry has his back turned again. The knight sighs, standing up again and pulling Louis with him.

“Thank me later for the small break,” Liam smiles as he gently kisses the servant’s forehead. “Please take care.”

“Alright, alright,” Louis blushes, pushing the knight a little so he could finally go.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Oìstin is working when Louis steps foot in the quaint little house. As he opens the heavy, creaky door, the sound of metal being smashed together grates his ears, sending an uncomfortable shiver down his spine. He’s never liked the sound or smell of metal and he is not exactly sure where the distaste comes from since he grew up surrounded by those.

“Who is that sword for?” Louis asks as he finds his father polishing a new weapon.

The man startles, almost dropping the sword at the sound of his son’s voice. And he does end up letting go of the thing altogether as soon as his eyes land on Louis, immediately going to hug him instead. Louis laughs, welcoming the embrace and breathing in deep, nose wrinkling a little when the smell of burning metal is the only thing that he can catch.

Louis pulls away first, about to say something, but then his father squishes his cheeks with a large, amused smile.

“My boy, look at you, all grown up!” In those moments, Louis really can tell the resemblance between his old guy and Stephen. “I really wish I could have been there.”

“Camelot would have lost its powerful army without you,” Louis replies a little awkwardly because really thinking about it, Oìstin did miss most of his milestones while growing up. Louis never resented him for it, quite the contrary, he admired his father and was proud of bearing the same name when he heard how hardworking and loyal the man is.

But he got the emotional and deep bond of fatherhood through Stephen, mostly… sometimes the King even.

“Wouldn’t that be for the better, thinking about it?” the blacksmith whispers sadly as he lets go of Louis, walking towards his working station again.

“If the King hears you say that—”

“I know, I know,” his father interrupts him, searching for something in the numerous weapons he has lying around. “And I’m afraid you’re asked to do something you’d rather not as well, aren’t you?”

Louis’ mood drops at that, looking down sadly and crossing his arms around his chest. No, he’d rather not, but at the same time he wouldn’t be surprised if some resentful souls were plotting something against the kingdom after the atrocity its King has spread through the land of Albion and while Louis does not like the idea of going against his own kind, he also cannot let innocent people suffer as a result of the King’s bigotry.

He cannot, with a clear peaceful mind, approve hurting people to get back at one person only.

He startles when Oìstin walks back up to him, presenting him the dagger and its scabbard the King had talked to him about. Louis lets out a shaky breath as he takes the dagger, admiring its handle with the Styles’ royal insignia painted on and his own name engraved on one side of the blade. He then takes the scabbard and promptly puts the dagger away in his bag, trying to ignore the added weight on his hip now.

“The King seemed pretty convinced you wouldn’t hurt yourself with this but I doubt Aelith taught you fighting techniques. I could teach you? You won’t be able to only rely on your magic outside, especially with the Prince and the knights around.”

Louis smiles at that. “It probably would be best. I can’t exactly ask Liam unfortunately.”

“Liam? Oh, Sir Liam, I forgot you’re familiar with him.”

His father forgets a lot of things about him, actually. Louis doesn’t point it out.

“What did you do with the brooch by the way?” Oìstin asks suddenly.

“Turned it into a ring,” he answers, showing off his right hand, the ring, discreet yet shining gold, in its middle. Oìstin makes an approving sound. “Haven’t figured out yet any spell that could unlock mother’s message. You don’t have any hint?”

His father sighs. “Your mother never really spoke about her magical heritage. She probably knew I wouldn’t understand much. When she brought up the possibility that you could end up with magic as well I— I was in denial. I was so convinced you’d be a normal boy.”

 _Normal_ , Louis muses. It sounds ideal, he thinks. Unfortunately, he is not.

“This really isn’t helping me,” Louis sighs. “It must be something important if she left it behind.”

“She always had everything planned… well— except you, I guess.”

“Thanks for reminding me I wasn’t planned,” Louis deadpans.

“You know it wasn’t what I meant… your mother… she was so excited to start a family even if neither of us saw ourselvess doing it while a war was on the horizon.”

Louis hums. “Would you be mad, if we ever find out where she is and if she started a new life? With someone else?” He never dared to ask about his parents’ relationship in the past, mostly because he’s always thought his mother was dead anyway and that the memory of her would be too painful for his father.

But now that he knows the truth, a whole new array of questions come to his mind and he plans on spending more time with his father when he is allowed to.

“I would be glad,” Oìstin answers with a sad glint to his eyes but a peaceful smile on his lips. “Circumstances just made it impossible for me to give her a happy life here. We never even married, we… were planning on doing it after you were born but, you know The Purge. I want nothing more for her but to be happy and safe now even if I’m out of her life. We both agreed it was the end for the two of us since keeping in contact would have been too dangerous for her… for me too, I’d be executed for sympathising with a sorcerer.”

Isn’t it what he is doing right now, though? Louis thinks. He is technically endangering anyone he tells his secret to.

“You’re the best blacksmith in the kingdom, Camelot would lose so much if the King executed you,” he says instead.

“You weren’t there but— his hatred for magic only grew in the past years. I wish I could understand why, but my craftsmanship wouldn’t be able to save my life. Didn’t you notice how the castle’s halls appear more empty than they used to? I suspect he made you come back because they were running out of people. And also because Prince Harry demanded it.”

Louis perks up at that, sending an incredulous look his father’s way. “He did?”

Oìstin nods with a small chuckle. “That boy missed you like crazy. He developed quite the stubborn ego so you will have trouble getting that out of him.”

Well, that sounds like a challenge if Louis ever heard one.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

_Two whole months had passed since Liam joined their lives and Harry remained strongly against him._

_“I don’t trust him!” the small prince petulantly exclaimed, crossing his arms._

_Louis did not say anything as he watched his best friend walk back and forth, grumbling to himself. He did not understand, truly. He loved Liam a lot, he was nice, warm and soft. He gave great hugs and always made him feel safe even if he was only one or two years older than him. He was also loyal and trustworthy. He did start to teach Louis how to write and Louis had been obsessed ever since, writing small letters to Gemma, his father, Harry… anyone who would be willing to read his messy letters with ink stains all over._

_“Why?” he asked after a few minutes of listening to Harry grumbling incoherent words._

_“He won’t let me win!”_

_“Isn’t that the point?” Louis was definitely confused._

_“Yes but he doesn’t have to hurt me in the process!”_

_“He doesn’t mean it.” Louis jumped on his feet, walking toward the prince and then grabbing his face in his hands. Harry pouted, puffing his cheeks to make the servant giggle softly as he observed the slight scratches that had appeared all over his face._

_“Liam is nice and he could be your friend outside of your mentoring, you know?” Louis offered gently after a small silence, letting go of Harry’s face to instead hold his hands. “He’s lonely too, we’re the only children outside of Gemma.”_

_“No, he’s stealing you from me…” Harry whined, making Louis’ eyes widen in slight surprise. “My lessons are piling up in the day and I already barely get to see you but when I don’t have anything and I try to find you you’re always with Liam talking or writing and it’s annoying!”_

_Oh. Of course! That made perfect sense — the prince was jealous. He had been too used to having Louis’ attention solely focused on him, it was literally his future role in the castle. He had also been too used to having everyone’s attention on him, he was the future king after all, and every one of his demands needed to be met. Louis pouted as he thought of a solution._

_“You can’t share?” he asked. “You could join us, we can all just have fun together?”_

_“No,” the prince deadpanned, looking him dead in the eyes and it was probably the most serious tone Louis ever heard._

_“What if… if you win a duel, I promise to spend more time with you.”_

_“You’ll stop playing with Liam?”_

_“That’s not what I said!” Louis reprimanded petulantly. “He’s still teaching me how to write!”_

_“I could too!”_

_“You’re busy Harry. I’d rather have fun with you than study.”_

_“So you admit Liam is boring.”_

_Louis blinked, open-mouthed and a little speechless at Harry’s sudden stubbornness… and rudeness._

_“That’s not nice at all, where’s my kind Harry,” he pouted, prompting the prince to immediately take his words back._

_“I did not mean it! I’m sorry Loulou.” Louis only rolled his eyes, laughing as Harry then engulfed him into a hug._

_Next time Liam and Harry duelled, Louis was cheering in the background — for both of them but the prince did not need to know that — and Harry won for the first time. As Liam met the ground with a groan, the prince gasped and jumped excitedly, immediately running towards Louis and lifting him up._

_Liam offered his hand later with a blinding smile. “This is just the beginning, it will only get harder now.” The future knight laughed at the look of horror on the prince’s face while Louis chuckled as well. “You are good at fighting My Prince... when you’ve got the motivation for it.” Liam side-eyed the servant boy, movement not going unnoticed by the pair._

_Louis and Harry shared a brief look before the latter took Liam’s hand, shaking it forcefully once._

_“When I have my Lou, nothing can stop me.”_

_A fond look crossed Liam’s face as he looked at the smaller boy’s blushing face then back to the prince._

_“I can believe that.”_

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Niall does end up joining the other knights during training, and the first thing he does is win against the prince on a one-on-one duel. Louis covers his mouth when it happens to stop himself from gasping and laughing and getting the prince’s wrath thrown his way.

Because Harry looks absolutely _livid_ while Niall looks like he is trying really hard not to celebrate as he presents his hand for the prince to take in order to get up again, an unsure smile on his lips. Looking to his right, Louis notices that Liam is smiling big. Not in a mocking way— in a rather… melancholic one, if that makes sense. The servant is intrigued for a few seconds before remembering that Liam did indeed train with Harry since they were little and that back in the days, Liam always won until Harry got better. Niall defeated Harry just as easily as Liam used to.

As Harry’s mentor, to Liam, Niall _is_ a blessing. He is a challenge, one that the prince hadn’t had to face for several years now. And one that comes at the perfect moment now that threats of an attack on Camelot are coming and Niall’s fighting style is more unpredictable and relies more on agility rather than strength and precision.

It is something they all need to get accustomed to.

“I guess we’ll need you during the next hunting,” Harry finally sighs as he reluctantly takes Niall’s hand to stand up again. Niall once again tries to refrain his giddiness and only smiles brightly. “And you’re telling me you’re not really a knight?”

The man shakes his head, smile not faltering. “By title, no, but I think I have proved myself,” Niall replies. “I also would not be here if I was a real knight.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, stranger,” Liam finally intervenes. “We need to see how you do in real circumstances first.”

“First before what?” Louis finds himself asking before he can think better of it. Harry sends him a look he can’t truly decipher but Liam speaks up before the prince could reprimand him.

“Since he has no concrete ties with Mercia, Prince Harry and I suggested that if he pledged loyalty to the crown of Camelot, it is a possibility that he could officially become a knight if he proves himself worthy.”

“A small possibility that is, Father is rather suspicious of outsiders lately,” Harry says. “But if he gains my respect, it could help.”

“You’re staying for the long run then?” the servant asks, addressing the Mercian with a small confused frown.

Niall’s smile becomes sheepish, guilt flickering in his eyes. “If you don’t mind.”

“Why would he mind?” Harry jumps in. “Louis?”

“I— I thought I told you? Niall is staying with me and Stephen for the time being.”

“He’s been keeping your little servant up at night,” Liam snickers and Harry’s eyes significantly darken at the information. Louis subtly hides behind Liam upon noticing that.

“Not intentionally!” Niall protests, throwing an arm around Louis’ shoulders. “But if it’s really bothering you I can totally try to beg the owner of the inn to take me back.”

Louis smiles, patting his arm. “Do not worry. Besides, the old man would only take you back if you stopped drinking at the tavern, and I know you can’t fathom the idea.” Niall laughs at that, bumping his head gently against his shoulder. Harry narrows his eyes.

“Speaking of drinks, we deserve a break, let’s unwind at The Rising Sun,” Liam announces, the knights cheering instantly as they all drop their weapons on the grass. Louis startles at the clinking sound of metal falling onto each other and yelps when Niall’s arms wind around his waist and lift him up.

“What are you doing?!” the servant exclaims, barely struggling in order to be let go as he feels Niall laugh against his neck. The ease with which Niall just lifted him makes Louis wonder how light he actually is. Or how strong the man is.

“I’m happy and when I’m happy I need to hold something cute and squishy, it usually was a dog or a sheep back home.”

“That does not make any sense, give my servant back, I need to have a few words with him,” Harry cuts in, walking up to them. Time seems to freeze for a couple of seconds as Niall promptly lets go of him, gently setting him back on the ground.

In an instant, Louis finds himself alone in the middle of discarded swords with the prince as the knights have already started to leave and Liam grabs Niall by the arm, dragging him away despite the clear protest in the Mercian’s eyes.

Louis waits then, tilting his head slightly upright to look at Harry’s face, watching frustration and worry paint his lines.

“Is he actually keeping you at night or have you been intentionally not getting any sleep to survey him?” Harry finally asks, green eyes searching Louis’. “You could have told me if you were tired.”

“Could I?” Louis counters, feeling a little brave with their gazes on each other. “I feel like I barely was able to stop and talk to you ever since I came back.”

Regret flashes briefly in the prince’s eyes before he sighs and looks away. “You have not changed, giving your trust so easily.”

Louis chuckles softly. “My Prince, the only other person I did that with was Liam and if I may say, you were the stubborn one.” A pause. “We were quite isolated, weren’t we?”

“We were… I don’t remember half of my knights’ names, if I have to be honest, I am thankful Liam is here.”

“You should tell that to him, not me,” the servant suggests, offering a little smile when Harry looks at him again for a brief moment.

“Something is off about Niall, I can’t quite place it,” the prince retreats back to the initial topic. “Liam wants to give him a chance but I fear it might turn against us.”

Louis ponders over that for a few seconds. Unlike Liam, Harry does have reasons to not trust Niall with the current political climate between the kingdoms, Mercia specifically, even if in cordial terms with Camelot, is known to have sheltered many sorcerers that escaped during The Purge and thus giving them protection against Camelot’s army. Harry’s distrust towards Liam as a child stemmed from jealousy. His distrust towards Niall now is much more justifiable. He’s a stranger, has been defying Harry for a while and seems knowledgeable in the topic of magic — though the prince does not know that last part.

Now that he thinks about it, as careless as Niall is, Louis hasn’t heard him talk about the Druids to anyone else but him which— intrigues him. Niall is not dumb, that much is clear, he knows he has to keep his mouth shut about magic while within Camelot’s borders, yet as soon as they are in the safe confinement of Stephen’s house, Niall starts telling stories about the good deeds the Druids have apparently done all over Albion following the Purge. But yet again, someone who seems almost amazed by the Druids should have nothing to do in a place where those idols are actively hated and suspected of throwing an attack.

Niall doesn’t make sense.

“If that is the case, with Liam, you, and I around him at almost all time, he would not be able to do anything. I also think he’s got a soft spot for me.” Louis can’t help the slight proud tone at the end there.

Harry groans, but then sighs.

“Alright, you’re right,” he concedes, “Just be careful, I don’t trust him.”

“I will, My Prince. I’m keeping an eye on him.”

Harry does not reply immediately, looking at Louis like he is searching for an answer in his face. The servant only blinks and tilts his head a little, confused by the current predicament.

“You really shouldn’t have to, you’re only a servant,” Harry sighs at last. “Anything suspicious from him and you tell me. He’ll be imprisoned in no time.”

Louis bites back a reply — _are you sure about that because he did defeat you and all your knights at battle_ — and simply nods. “I will, thank you, Your Highness.”

Harry takes a step back, huffing as he looks to the left, avoiding the servant’s gaze. “When it’s just the two of us alone, you can just call me Harry, Louis.”

This time, Louis does not try to contain his smile, but he stops himself from hugging the prince and simply bounces on his feet, nodding enthusiastically. Harry has been acting strange since he came back, once distant and cold and the next almost friendly. But this… this is a big improvement.

“Do I have the permission to talk to you freely as well, Harry?” he asks.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself now,” the prince curtly says and Louis’ excitement immediately drops as he pouts. But then, Harry rests a hand on Louis’ shoulder. “You— You’ve been doing great work since you’ve come back and I know you like to hear that so— Thank you.” Louis wants to respond but the royal quickly pulls back and turns away. “I will be at the stables until supper, I will see you then, you can go with the knights.”

As he watches Harry walk away, Louis can’t help but feel his heart flutter in his chest.

But then he realises the prince just left him alone to put away all the training equipment and he is pretty sure if he left it all here he’d get an earful from a random knight, and he curses under his breath.

His hand hitches to just cast a spell to get it done under a second but he is in broad daylight and he does cherish his life. With a groan, he reluctantly starts to pick up the heavy swords and discarded helmets.

He knows none of the knights’ names but he hates them.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Camelot is particularly dark and silent the day of the hunting. The sun has been hiding behind grey clouds all morning while Louis was preparing a route for the knights and the prince to take and the servant would be lying if he said he did not worry. If there is a thing he learned while staying in Mercia is that magic has an influence on everything and bad weather often coincides with bad omen.

Of course, he can’t exactly inform the prince of that so he will just cross his fingers and hope the clouds will remain in this light grey colour and not pour on them or darken for a storm to arrive.

“I still don’t understand why father insisted you come without any armour,” Harry comments as they prepare the horses’ saddles. “You must stay by my side or Liam’s at all times, understood?”

Louis nods. “I promise I will be fine, My Prince.”

“You also promised you’d be gone only for a few weeks,” the prince bites back bitterly, surprising Louis with his possessive animosity.

“I wrote to you.”

“Do not lie to me.”

“I did!” Louis insists, unintentionally raising his voice. Realising his mistake, he quickly covers his mouth and looks around to be sure no one heard him. Harry levels him with a sombre look before getting closer. The servant doesn’t budge and keeps their eye contact though he really wants to run away.

“You wrote to Liam, Gemma, Oìstin and Stephen but never to me,” the prince says as they stand right in front of each other. “I am not stupid Louis, I know you wanted to run away from this place. You failed to remember you’re quite literally mine.”

The words make Louis’ heart pound uncomfortably in his chest. Harry knows Louis hates to be talked about like a property even though he literally is. It is petty but Louis refuses to cry, standing his ground and lifting his chin up.

“I can swear to you, Your Highness, that I wrote to you every week for all those years. I had missed you but I also needed a place to grow as my own person and not just the prince’s little boy. I am your loyal servant, and I pledged loyalty to the crown, you will always have me devoted to you. However, I will not stand for being called a liar.”

Which is… very ironic, now that he thinks truly about it and that he feels his fingers hitch again, all the emotions whirling in his heart taking forms in his magic building up in his palms and aching to be let out. He cannot seem to be able to control them in Harry’s presence and it is annoying and confusing.

The prince doesn’t speak for a few more moments as he looks deep into Louis’ eyes as if the answers he seeks can be found in them. And he seems to find them because a sudden sheepish and guilty look briefly crosses his face as he takes a step back, furrowing his brow.

“I never got your letters,” he whispers, mostly to himself but they are still so close that Louis still manages to hear him.

“I was quite saddened as well that you never answered them,” Louis confesses with a little smile.

“I need to talk to my father,” Harry says suddenly, now anger burning in his eyes. “Finish preparing my horse, I will be back promptly.”

And just like that, the prince turns around, running back towards the castle. Louis doesn’t have the time to wonder what abrupt and urgent thought crossed the prince’s mind because Harry’s horse suddenly neighs, bumping its muzzle against Louis’ head.

“Yes, yes I’m gonna feed you before we go,” he sighs, patting its forehead. As demanding as its owner, that one.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Harry is tense when he comes back and they head into the forest. No one comments on it, all the knights staying rather distant from the prince while Louis, with Liam by his side, is leading the group through the small paths that Brocéliande has to offer.

“The forest becomes denser from this point on and it can get a bit foggy but it’s nothing to fear unless you hear something flying near you, that might be trolls messing with us,” Louis informs them as he jumps off his own horse, shaking off the weird feeling of being somewhat in charge. “Bringing the horses would attract unwelcome attention, we should leave them around here, there’s a river nearby.”

The knights follow without any protest and Louis tries to keep his nerves down as they attach the horses to trees close enough to the water for them to drink if needed. After quickly doing that, they start heading to the West, walking deeper into the woods in silence.

Louis remains in front, with Harry next to him while he can see, from the corner of his eyes, Liam and Niall walking not too far behind, the former keeping an eye on the Mercian rather than on their surroundings. The silence is almost peaceful. If Louis closed his eyes and cleared his mind to let only the feeling of the wind caressing his skin and the small crackles of the leaves and branches he steps on to get to him, he would feel like he has been transported back a month ago as he was making his way from Mercia to Camelot in complete bliss of the busy life awaiting him.

“Louis,” Harry speaks up, at last, the first word he utters ever since they walked into the forest, startling the servant. “We’re not that far from the kingdom.”

“I know,” Louis grins. “A lot of animals tend to stay close to the borders, hoping to grab any food people, well, merchants might drop on their way in or out. However, for the bigger beasts, we will have to walk farther and avoid the troll and fairy realms that surround the deep woods. They usually do not attack but better not disturb them. The trolls especially. Oh! And if you see a unicorn do not attack it.”

The prince hums. “Either way, we’re in neutral grounds so any _normal_ creature is up to grab. Do you know how far until we get into Mercia’s or Agrowven’s territory?”

Louis nods, biting his tongue as to not point out that really, the prince should worry more about the magical creatures that live here rather than the humans who might see them trespassing.

“If the path becomes clearer, it is most likely we are closer to a kingdom so we must stick to the dark woods, despite how inconvenient it will be to spot any animal.” He marks a pause. “I would have thought your training would involve a better understanding of Brocéliande,” he continues in a lower voice, so none of the knights hears him.

“It should have,” Harry agrees after a small frown. “Father was too… protective and refused to let me and Liam train in real circumstances until he deemed me strong enough. Last hunt… was actually the first time we left Camelot.” There is a disappointing edge to his voice, something close to shame as well as he recalls the failure that the last hunt was.

“Surprised he let you leave the kingdom so soon after then,” Louis comments. “And—”

“Deer!” One of the knights suddenly interrupts them, whisper-shouting the word as he points to a direction where Louis can briefly see a shadow run in between the bushes.

Louis stays back as the whole group starts to stealthily run towards where the animal left, quite surprised when both Liam and Harry pass him without really urging him forward. Still pretending to run to catch up with the knights, he turns his palm towards the sky as he murmurs _“bene læg gesweorc”_. Mist rises up almost instantly and he takes the opportunity to turn around and head towards the East instead, hoping no one saw him. It’s not like he will be of any help actually killing animals anyway.

As he walks back to the horses, he basks into the newfound silence and peace, fingers tapping his right thigh where he haphazardly attached his dagger, the form of it hidden by his pants but still, Louis feels like anyone could see it. He has been training with his father— but truly, he still doesn’t feel comfortable holding and using it other than to cut some branches on his way.

It is a bad idea, but he’d rather rely on his magic and as long as no one sees him, it should be fine, right? Right. The sight of blood makes him sick anyway.

He is kind of lost now, not sure how he is supposed to fulfil the mission the King gave him without any prior information about the Druids other than “they might be around here”.

And of course, that is when he hears movement that definitely isn’t one of the knights or Harry. He gasps, hesitating for only a second before swiftly running a bit ahead in order to not be seen near the horses — it would look suspicious, being surrounded by so many while completely alone. Crouching while hiding behind the thick bushes and trees, he doesn’t move for a few seconds, closing his eyes, focusing on the sound of the footsteps.

It cannot be a merchant, the person is light on their feet, obviously not carrying anything heavy. He can’t hear any horse or wolf either, signalling the person is alone. Then again, it could only be an innocent passerby, Louis reckons, but then he freezes when he hears the person talk, way closer than he expected them to be.

“Yes yes, the _Shade_ is still there, I could feel his presence lingering around, stop yelling at me.” It is a woman’s voice, Louis recognises. Young, a little petulant as well. Perhaps a little too young to be alone in Brocéliande, however, and why was she speaking alone? “Couldn’t find him, however. Hopefully, he did get closer to the royal family. Would have felt it if he died.”

Louis frowns. A traitor is already within Camelot? What even is a _Shade_?

The servant carefully and quietly distances himself from the clear path, engulfing himself into the darkness of the woods where he could observe more safely. That is how he manages to spot the woman speaking to a crystal attached around her neck, emitting a gentle white glow.

He can do that too? He looks at his ring with a contemplative look. Could that be the clue to his mother’s message? He makes a mental note of searching for the spell later on.

“Who’s there?!” the witch suddenly exclaims, startling Louis back to reality, his entire body freezing when she creates flames with the tips of her fingers without any spell. As she does so, her hood comes down, revealing icy blond hair and tanned skin. Her eyes are glowing gold as she inspects her horizons.

She is not looking in Louis’ direction, however, but behind from where she came from. A couple of minutes of silence ensue before she shakes her hand, extinguishing her flames before putting the hood back on.

“I think I am observed,” Louis manages to hear. “Might take longer to come back.”

She starts walking more hastily then. Louis waits for a few moments before he carefully stands up again once he is certain she is far enough. He frowns as he looks towards the direction he saw the witch run to, fully aware that she most likely took a different route than she usually would now that she suspected someone was following her so attempting to track her down would be pointless.

Instead, he looks down on his left hand, concentrating, wondering if he could, too, create fire without any spell. He can feel the energy building from his head towards his hand, slowly creeping down his arm and he can feel the warmth of the fire that is supposed to be there — but isn’t. He frowns, whispering “ _forbaerne_ ” and immediately, a small ball of fire appears in his hand.

So, he can’t. He was not aware a sorcerer could exercise without any spell, Aelith always told him to stick to the spells written in his grimoire but now he feels quite inadequate. Using his magic without pronouncing any word would most certainly help him in his mission to keep Harry and Camelot safe. That is another point he will need to bring up with either Stephen or the dragon.

In fact, perhaps he should talk about the dragon to Stephen as well… he is bound to know some things about why a mythical creature, the last one of his kind, is even held captive under the castle.

“Louis?” a voice suddenly whispers next to him.

Louis startles, the fireball falling on the floor and creating a burned circle. The person yelps, jumping back.

 _Niall_.

“What are you even doing here?!” Louis whisper-shouts in a hushed tone, fear lacing his voice as he tackles the knight to the ground just as they hear footsteps approaching again after the commotion they just caused.

They both remain silent, waiting for whoever was there — the witch, probably, Louis concedes — to walk away. Niall is sprawled out on the grass, face contorted in a grimace as he rubs the back of his head as silently as possible and Louis realises he might have hit his head on a rock. The servant, on the other hand, is just laying completely on top of him and it would be a little too close to comfort but then the footsteps get closer and he sees the exact moment Niall’s survival instinct comes up.

The knight grabs Louis as he rolls them over, propelling them with a kick against the nearest tree, a hand clutched on Louis’ head, preventing him from hitting the ground. The force of the kick makes them land under thick bushes and Louis lets out a gasp when Niall gently lets go of him, their positions now switched, as the knight feels around the grass, finally grabbing a handful of rocks and branches and then throwing them blindly in the distance.

Louis wants to ask questions but Niall shuts him up with a hand on his mouth and the servant would throw a fight for that but then he hears the footsteps pass near them and then run towards where Niall threw the branches and rocks. They wait a couple more minutes, frozen in place. Once they can’t hear the footsteps anymore though, Niall lets out a long sigh of relief as he lets himself fall by Louis’ side, almost bumping into the log nearby.

Niall is a good fighter with incredible reflexes, Louis concedes, but dear God is he an idiot as soon as he lets his guard down.

“I should be asking you that, why would you decide to sneak away from the group?!” the knight chastises at last. “That was a Druid! Which is odd, because they’re usually in groups, but your little magic tricks won’t do anything!”

“I expected you to be a little more surprised about the magic part, to be honest,” Louis tries to joke.

“That too! Do you have a death wish?!”

“You say that as if I had a choice!” Louis growls back in frustration, sitting up and glaring down at Niall who blinks up at him in surprise. “I owe my whole life to that fucking family! They _own_ me. I managed to get away for so long and I thought I was free and that they forgot about me, but then the King dragged me back to the castle. And now I have to track those Druids and find out if they actually plan an attack on Camelot and it feels wrong because those are my people but I can’t let them possibly hurt the innocent people of Camelot either! So now, promise you’ll never utter a single word that was exchanged here and let’s go back to the horses.”

Louis needs to take a breath before trying to stand up again but then, hands grab his wrists, keeping him there. Niall lets out a sigh as he sits up straight too and looks right into the servant’s eyes.

“Magic saved my life, I’ll never tell on you,” the almost knight admits, voice a little deeper and softer, far from his usual careless tone. Louis frowns, curiosity taking over, wondering what story Niall has yet to tell him. “Listen, I’m sorry if that struck a chord it’s just that— Camelot is ruthless. You are close to Prince Harry and Lady Gemma but I really doubt they could do anything if the King finds out.”

“Don’t you think I know that?” Louis responds with a shaky voice. “I don’t have a choice, Niall. I really—”

“Hey, ssh… It’s alright,” Niall soothes, now bringing Louis into a hug. The servant hasn’t realised he started crying until now as he lets his tears fall down against the warmth of the knight’s chest.

They stay like that for a couple more minutes, Louis quietly sobbing as Niall rubs his back before the sorcerer pulls away first.

“Thank you,” he whispers, not quite meeting Niall’s eyes as he stands up, dusting off the dirt from his clothes before lending his hand.

“No problem,” Niall answers with a smile, taking the hand and standing up as well. He squeezes before letting go. “Your secrets are safe with me, Louis. Besides, now more than ever, I know you need protection. I’m gonna stay in Camelot for a while.”

Earlier in the week, Louis probably would have groaned in annoyance. Right now, only relief fills his heart.

“By the way,” the knight continues, “while I was following you I might have heard the Druid talk about planning on corrupting the water system of Camelot.”

“I heard her say they’ve infiltrated the kingdom with _Shades_ ,” Louis shares, frowning in deep concentration. “Not sure what those are yet though, Aelith never told me about that so my guess is that it must involve dark magic.”

Niall takes a deep breath, looking away. Louis is not sure why so he doesn’t comment on it.

When they return to where they left the horses, Liam is already there and he immediately jumps in between Niall and him, grabbing Louis’ face and inspecting it. The knight then glares at Niall when he spots a few scratches on the tan skin of the youngest of the three.

“Don’t look at me like that, your boy is in one piece!” Niall protests, backing away, one hand in the air and the other near his sword, just in case.

“He’s scratched up!”

“And he can hear you,” Louis jumps in, slapping Liam’s hands away. As much as he appreciates his friend’s protective nature, it is a little overwhelming right now. “I’m fine, Liam. Just a few branches smacking me in the face when I did not pay attention.”

“Thank goodness you’re okay, why did you leave?”

“Well, you all run fast, I don’t.” That was a lie. Liam did not need to know that. “Plus the fog made it hard to see you. I gathered I might as well walk around the area while waiting and Niall found me. Oh! I picked some berries on the way. You hungry?”

There is a bit of silence as Louis indeed presents the berries to the knight before Liam sighs fondly, all the worry and tension leaving his body immediately as he takes one or two berries to eat. Louis and Niall share a wide grin over Liam’s shoulder.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, nouis will be the main friendship, it was supposed to be lilo but sometimes the fic writes itself haha. Chapter 3 is arguably when things pick up a little so see you then :)


	3. The Sins of the Father

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are revelations and reconciliations. Just not the ones Louis expected, exactly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lil more of Gemma and the dragon (there may or may not be a name reveal too) and also something about Niall that I think was quite predictable but I have big plans for his character in the future, he'll be essential for Louis c: Also I added "forbidden love" in the tags, I can't believe I just... forgot.
> 
> On a personal level, I've started online classes again this past week, meaning I have a lot less time to write now as I prepare for my master and I really need to find a topic interesting enough to write my thesis on. All that without even being sure I can afford doing a master... But anyway, hopefully it will not disturb too much the posting schedule here, I have about 5 chapters written in advance already so we'll see if I have to slow down at some point to avoid a big gap once uni truly starts to wear me out :'') a week felt really long while I had nothing to do, this past week went by so fast, oof. Oh! And happy one year to Walls too, hope everyone has been streaming heheh
> 
> Time to repeat myself now:  
> Go give some love to my beta [Lou](https://twitter.com/lwtwinters)!!
> 
> [Tumblr Post](https://lwtisloved.tumblr.com/post/640491465750003712/truth-behind-golden-eyes-by-myenglishrose-a) ¦¦ [Twitter Post](https://twitter.com/darlinlou/status/1350504077084520450?s=20)  
> Good reading x

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

The King wears a sour expression as soon as Louis tells him about his discoveries. The servant tries to not falter, opening the book where he hastily drew a map of the Brocéliande forest. He points to an area surrounding the Northern borders of Camelot.

“I couldn’t trace the Druid for long but she was heading towards this general area. The fact that she was alone but so close to the kingdom tells me she was in Camelot not long ago.”

The King grunts. “You saw only one then?” Louis nods. “They are definitely breaking their own ethics.”

“Your Majesty, may I ask something?”

“Go on,” the King allows, raising an interested eyebrow.

“Do you think something happened for the Druids to attack only now but stayed away during the Purge?”

The old man hums at that. “No. The only difference has been you coming back.”

The information sends a shiver down Louis’ spine as he recalls the dragon’s words. _Your gift was given to you for a reason._ It couldn’t be related, now, could it? Then again, Louis still is not sure if the Druids truly attacked Harry prior to him coming back to Camelot or if it was just a rumour that spread and the prince stayed silent, preferring that rumour to take over rather than admit he came back home with empty hands.

He has trouble imagining Liam’s righteous mind lying, however.

“Anyway, thank you for the work, Louis,” the King speaks up again, tearing up the pages of the book Louis wrote on, studying them with a harsh stare. “Please send Stephen here when you see him. You will be rewarded.” Louis tries to not look too interested upon hearing that. Fortunately for him, his curiosity is soon appeased. “How does living in the castle sound?”

Louis frowns, confused. “But I am already kind of living here?”

“I meant with your own room.” The servant’s eyes widen, making the old king fondly laugh. “The room used to belong to the Queen’s servant, Anne was so fond of her.” _And what happened to her?_ Louis wonders, slightly scared. “It hasn’t been used since she left. It can be yours, in the future.”

In the future, Louis repeats in his mind.

“I am… currently accommodating a friend of mine from Mercia. Would he be allowed within the walls of the castle?” he asks, trying to hide the nerve in his voice. Niall will be staying for a long time, he reckons and as long as he is not officially knighted, he cannot get his own household in town.

“Is that the common young man who wishes to become a knight Harry told me about?”

“Precisely.”

“I am curious to see him fight,” the King ponders, awe slightly tainting his voice. “I will need to meet him first.”

“Very well, Your Highness.”

“Another time, however. You are dismissed, simply hurry and inform Stephen I need him.”

Louis doesn’t reply, only nods and bows before quickly walking out of the King’s chambers.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

_Gemma met Louis only a few years after he was already settled within the castle. After her mother’s death and when her father started the war against magic, he sent her to their residence in Agrowven, a kingdom on the north of Albion, a trusted ally of Camelot, supposedly to keep her safe though she did not understand why her newborn brother was to stay within Camelot._

_When she first laid eyes on Louis, an odd feeling of protectiveness took over her as she took in the servant’s small, quite fragile-looking, stature. Warmth filled her heart as the boy smiled at her, blue eyes sparkling with recognition._

_“You’re the princess!” Louis exclaimed while bouncing on his feet, making the pretty girl laugh. She looked at the small boy she knew her brother was very fond of, and put her hand on his head, settling the boy down._

_“I am.”_

_“So why do people call you Lady Gemma instead of princess? You’re so pretty by the way!”_

_She laughed again faced with the bubbly loveliness that was a barely six-year-old Louis. She had to go against every fibre of her being that wanted to just take the boy in her arms and squish and never let go._

_“I just don’t like to be called a princess,” she said honestly. She never did, especially knowing she wouldn’t inherit the throne despite being older and wiser. And despite knowing Harry has no desire to become a king either but she figured that might change later on. “Lady sounds more sophisticated,” Gemma simply said instead._

_“I don’t know what that word means.”_

_Gemma chuckled. This kid really knew how to lift her spirits up involuntarily._

_“Why are you here? Where’s my brother?” she asked instead, changing the subject._

_“Writing and reading lessons… I am not allowed in the library while he is studying…”_

_Yet he could freely walk around the castle without anyone reprimanding him? That intrigued Gemma. Either her brother or her father told everyone to leave the small boy alone._

_“Oh I’m sorry about that, would you like to come with me?” she offered. “I was going to water and pick some flowers in the garden._

_“I would love to pr— I mean, my Lady.” He grinned big and Gemma’s heart melted again._

_“You’re a lovely boy, aren’t you, little one,” she whispered, ruffling the servant’s hair then offering her hand. Louis stared at it for a couple of seconds, probably deeply confused, before he took it and let the royal princess lead him towards the garden he actually had never seen before either._

_As far as she is concerned, as she watched the boy grow, she always felt a particular connection to him. She remembered her father teasing her and asking if he was supposed to plan a wedding in the future to which she crinkled her nose in disgust, appalled by the idea. If anything, Louis is like another, less annoying, younger brother._

_There was just something else too that made her so fascinated by him. She just did not know why just yet._

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

“Do you really have to bring your knight with you everywhere,” Lady Gemma laments, sending a not so subtle glare towards Niall who is trailing behind them, whistling happily as he looks around the walls of the castle.

“ _My_ knight?” Louis repeats with a hint of a laugh. “I’m afraid I don’t see what you mean my Lady.”

Gemma blinks at him, her deep green eyes observing him. “Isn’t he your lover?”

“Lover?” Louis squeaks and Niall definitely hears as he snorts discreetly behind his hand but does not say anything, acting like he were deaf. “I’m afraid I don’t have time for a lover.”

“I figured it would be the only reason why Father allowed him in the castle and why Harry did not like him.”

“He doesn’t like me because I’m stronger than him and he still hasn’t defeated me in a duel even though I am only a lowly man,” Niall chimes in, at last, skipping forward to throw an arm around the servant’s shoulders and winking at the princess. “Stealing Louis’ time is an added bonus.”

“Niall,” Louis reprimands but to his surprise, Lady Gemma chuckles.

“Messing with Harry truly is fun, I used to steal Louis away when we were younger as well.”

She tells that like a fond memory and Louis has to stop every muscle on his face from forming a grimace. It wasn’t that pleasant of an experience when he thinks about them. While he appreciated being spoiled with affection from the two royal siblings, he often felt like a doll the king shook in front of Harry’s and Gemma’s eyes he would lend to one of them for one day if they behaved accordingly.

He can’t help but frown however as the events that happened in the past month come back to him. In a sense… he is still tossed around for someone’s enjoyment or purpose. Prince Harry, Liam, Niall, Lady Gemma, the King, the fucking _dragon_. He really needs to go talk to that dragon again and get real answers from him.

“We’re here,” Lady Gemma’s voice brings him back to reality, now realising they are facing a small door at the end of a hall. Looking to his left, Louis can see a bigger door, blocked out by two wooden planks. Pretty inefficient, he thinks, though he guesses no one has any reason to venture in the bedroom anyway. He figures that is what used to be the Queen’s chambers.

“My chamber is close,” the princess continues as she points to the opposite end of the hall, “and with that information, Niall, I hear a single sound during the night and you are dead, understood?”

Niall freezes under the sudden cold stare of the woman and promptly bows his head. “Of course, my Lady.”

Louis rolls his eyes as he pushes the door open, cringing at the sound, and then coughing as dust rises up instantly. Lady Gemma brings her long sleeve to her nose, blocking out the dust as she walks in first, heading straight to the curtains and drawing them open, letting sunlight shine through the abandoned room.

It is small, with only a dresser on the right and a bed in the middle, but it is bigger than the room Stephen haphazardly emptied to make it into a room for him. Niall seems to think as well as he eyes the floor in between the bed and the windows, probably evaluating if it will be enough space for him to lay on.

“I used to spend so much time here,” Gemma muses as she looks around. “You know, there was another boy before you, Louis.”

“Prince Harry’s previous manservant?” He knows Morris now as he has often consulted with him when he needs to talk to the King. The boy - who Louis is pretty sure is actually younger than himself - did not seem to hold the prince or king in high esteem although he obviously does not display such contempt towards them.

“No, before you were even born I think. Before Mother died.” At that Niall lets out a small gasp and subtly walks away, probably sensing that this wasn’t a conversation for him. Louis hopes he will come back with the rest of their belongings as well.

The servant starts to remove the bedding, holding his breath as more dust flies off when he fluffs the cushions. Lady Gemma makes a face, though she stays a few steps away, at a safe distance. No royal hands shall do any kind of dirty work, Louis muses.

“And what about that other boy?” Louis asks as he folds the satin cover, the fabric fragile and soft under his fingertips. Whoever was the Queen’s first maid was treated like a noble lady...

“I don’t quite remember his name, actually,” Gemma answers as she leans against one of the columnars of the bed, watching Louis work. “It has been over twenty years now. He was the son of my mother’s favourite maid and he most likely was supposed to become Harry's servant. They both slept here.”

“What happened then?”

She frowns, suddenly looking down. “Father banished them shortly after Mother died. I never learned why.” A sigh escapes her lips. “He first kept saying it was their fault she died in childbirth, which made no sense, and then all of a sudden he had this pure hatred for magic. One day we were grieving as we buried the Queen while celebrating the birth of the heir to the throne and the next day he was talking with Stephen and planning out attacks on sorcerers within Camelot, first through laws and suddenly a war happened. Perhaps the maid was a witch— I was too young to remember but even as a child, I did not see a lot of sorcerers working in the castle or they were very good at hiding it.”

Louis shivers. He’s never truly been told about the beginning of the Purge — mostly because he never truly wanted to hear about it either, especially after discovering he had magic as well. He already knew Stephen had a part in it, but hearing it be confirmed directly by Gemma somehow makes the information even worse, Louis’ stomach tightening in disgust and doubt.

Stephen easily turned against his own kind to save himself and his sister and Louis knows it was war, sacrifices _had_ to be done but— it just doesn’t sit right with him. The fact that he lost the chance to have a mother, a normal life, and now is stuck in a kingdom where his very existence is outlawed probably doesn’t help the case either.

But really thinking about it, isn’t Louis doing the same thing right now? He cannot shake the feeling that a new war was on the horizon and that he has already chosen a side.

“Say, Louis, what do you think of all this? This magic ban?” Lady Gemma prompts.

The servant inhales deeply through his nose, trying to settle his anxious mind and rapidly beating heart, hoping she would not notice. “I doubt my opinion on the matter truly… _matters_ , My Lady.”

“You must have an opinion, though,” she presses, making Louis even more focused on folding the linen correctly in front of him.

“I— I don’t know.”

“I think it’s stupid,” she bluntly says, startling the servant a little and probably sensing she would not get a response otherwise. “As little as I understand, these people are born with magic and never asked for it. Most people I have seen be executed were so because they tried to help less fortunate souls by enchanting something to bring them luck or give them hope. The lady— the lady who got executed the day you arrived, she was healing children and mothers in the poorest villages of the kingdom until someone denounced her to our knights. This isn’t fair, Louis, and I can’t do anything because I can’t even pretend to the throne!”

The sudden emotion in the Lady’s usual collected voice makes Louis stop all movement, slowly looking at the princess with empathy. He quietly and gently makes his way towards her, extending his arms as an invitation, still unsure of the physical boundaries he was supposed to have with the royal siblings. Almost immediately, Gemma runs into his arms, squeezing so tight, Louis is almost rendered breathless.

“It really isn’t and I am sorry My Lady,” he whispers softly, bringing his arms around her waist. She is still slightly taller than him, he realises, the position must hurt her neck a little but she doesn’t seem to mind. “I am guessing with the recent development, they… finally had enough of not standing up for themselves. Unfortunately, I am afraid it will only further your Father’s bigotry and hatred towards their kind, and making him see otherwise after all this time won’t be an easy task.”

There is a bit of silence before Gemma suddenly pulls back, eyes round as she stares at Louis who tilts his head in confusion. She then chuckles, cradling the boy’s face in her hands, a fond smile on her lips that reminds Louis briefly of the way Aelith used to look at him when he successfully mastered a new spell.

“Since when are you so well-spoken, little one?” The nickname makes Louis smile bashfully, bringing back memories of a simpler time.

“Aelith is a wonderful teacher.” He shrugs.

Gemma hums. “She sure is, I have not seen her since she left the castle, we shall visit her someday.” Her expression falters a little then. “I am glad we share the same views, however. Harry— I’m afraid Father influenced him too much. And the Druids attacking him most certainly did not help either.”

“It is an unfortunate turn of events.”

“Together, we could find a solution, we just have to think of something, find out where Father’s hatred comes from and Harry has a soft spot for you so perhaps he will be willing to hear you out on a good day,” Gemma muses, excitement filling her eyes again at the idea.

And another responsibility on Louis’ shoulders. He nods and smiles tightly. She doesn’t notice, distracted by Niall coming back into the room.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Harry shows up as well a few hours later just as Louis finishes putting up the new curtains, perched on a small stool. The servant only registers Lady Gemma’s indignant gasp before he feels two strong arms around his waist, startling him. He would have lost his balance if the prince was not currently holding him upright with such ease.

Louis yelps, looking down confused at Harry.

“I need you, let’s go,” the prince simply says, not explaining whatsoever what was the need to scare Louis as such.

“Must you frighten me like that my prince?” the servant wonders out loud.

To his surprise — and delight — a small smile does appear on Harry’s face before the prince simply takes Louis’ hand instead and steps back, letting the smaller boy get down on the floor again safely.

“It is fun, I admit, you still get so easily startled.”

“Two arms suddenly encasing you while you are in a vulnerable position ought to surprise anyone,” Louis points out, not daring to move his hand, afraid to break this instance in which he feels like he can finally get a glimpse of the Harry who used to be his closest friend.

“I have been trained otherwise,” the prince responds. “Speaking of, I need you for a training session, let Niall and any other servant finish dusting off this room.”

“Please, do act like we’re not here,” Lady Gemma huffs. Niall, on his part, is just observing with an odd smile on his lips. Louis subtly sends him a confused look over Harry’s shoulder when the latter gets momentarily distracted by his sister’s words, but the almost knight only snickers and shrugs.

Does he know something Louis doesn’t?

“Do not mind if I do,” Harry dryly replies, tugging on Louis’ hand as he starts to walk towards the door. “Still my servant first, you’ve got Maïa!”

“Father said he’s both of ours!”

“You had him all morning.”

“He’s safer with me.”

“Forgive me for interrupting,” Niall suddenly jumps in, absolutely not sounding apologetic, “but may I remind you that Louis is, in fact, not an object?”

This stuns pretty much everyone into silence. See, the thing is, this is an observation that Louis had himself, but that he also heard other people within the castle point out, often with a pinch of pity, or jealousy for some others, in their voices. They never dared to speak up, who would even dare to question the royal siblings? But Niall isn’t from here, Niall doesn’t hold back his tongue. Louis is not sure if it is a blessing or a curse right now, considering how Harry’s playful attitude disappears in an instant, the stoic look in his eyes Louis has now become used to seeing taking over instead.

“I could have your head for your insolence,” the prince states coldly.

Niall sends a challenging look back. “Unfortunately for you, your Father is impressed with me and I am Louis’ guard.”

“That old man trusts no one, he has lost his head, that is to wonder if you have not _bewitched_ him somehow.”

The venom in Harry’s voice as he says these words make both Gemma and Louis flinch but Niall doesn’t falter, a saccharine smile still on his lips.

“Prince Harry, we should go,” Louis gently whispers at last. The frown on Harry’s face doesn’t disappear but he does turn around and properly walks away, his grip on Louis’ hand just a little more forceful now. Before the door closes behind them, Louis sends an incredulous look Niall’s way again.

The Mercian merely shrugs, mouthing “I’ll explain later”. With that, Louis has no other choice but to follow Harry and hope his temper will subside by the time they get to training.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

_King Desmond was always an intimidating figure in Louis’, and many others’, lives. The monarch was known to be quite cold and cruel ever since the Queen died and Louis never dared to approach the King’s chambers without Gemma or Harry by his side when he had no remorse running around any other halls of the castle._

_When Stephen told him the King wanted to talk to him and was waiting for him in the throne room, Louis wanted to run and hide, afraid of what he might have done wrong. The court’s physician must have noticed the little boy’s distress as he promptly informed him he would accompany him and that he would not be alone._

_But frankly, it did nothing to settle Louis’ heart._

_There were no guards as they walked into the empty throne room, Louis clutching Stephen’s hand as if it depended on his life — and perhaps it did because he would always remember the annoyed look full of anger shining in the King’s despicable green eyes as soon as they laid on him. Louis never understood the contempt the King held for him despite being the one to offer Louis a place into the palace._

_“It has come to my attention that you have been distracting the prince a lot during his training,” the King said, calmly, sternly._

_“I— I did not mean to, Your Highness,” Louis stuttered, hiding behind Stephen’s arm but keeping eye contact with the Monarch._

_“I had already warned you once.”_

_The small boy flinched, feeling his eyes water — it was not true. Harry’s tutors told him to stay away and he did! He just did not know it also applied to when Harry was training with Liam! The tears seemed to annoy the King furthermore while he felt Stephen gently squeeze his hand in reassurance._

_“I believe you have been spoiled while I allowed you to live here.” Louis tried not to frown. “Stephen thought of a solution that would benefit both yours and the prince’s education.”_

_“Say, my boy,” Stephen gently said then as if prompted. He crouched down, wiping away Louis’ tears. “How would you feel about… deepening your own knowledge but… outside of the castle.”_

_Louis sniffed but still looked up, intrigued._

_“I know life has been quite… difficult around here and with prince Harry beginning his true training, I think it would benefit you to be away for a while so when you reunite you will have so much to share.”_

_“It has already been decided,” the King interrupted, startling the child again. “You will leave at dawn tomorrow and will be under the care of Stephen’s sister, Aelith.”_ Aelith _, Louis repeated in his head. She sounded sweet at least. “Your father knows as well. You will be free to send us letters and show us your progress in them. You will still be my son’s manservant and most likely his confidant as Stephen is to me, and I expect only the best for him.”_

_Louis almost heard a hint of softness in the old man’s voice. Almost._

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Harry’s anger does not subside, it gets worse.

When they get to the training area, no one is there. No Liam, no knights, not even servants walking around, busy with their own tasks. Louis wants to ask why but before he could, Harry orders him to set up the dummies and targets as he digs into the stack of weapons — which, now that Louis thinks about it, is a safety hazard since no one is keeping an eye on them — to retrieve a dozen of daggers he somehow manages to hold with a single hand.

Given the targets, Louis grabs a bow and some arrows as well, as he watches Harry concentrate.

“Father sent my strongest knights to the water source, Liam included… but not me,” the prince states suddenly, frustration lacing his voice as he throws the dagger that lands expertly in the middle of the target. Louis gulps. “All my life this old man made me train every day until I could barely stand and when I have the opportunity to prove myself he forbids me from going.” He throws another dagger, this one planting itself in another target, not quite in the middle but so deep, it almost pierced through the wood.

“You are probably a prime target,” Louis hesitantly says, as he now hands the prince his bow and arrows but the prince does not move, still glaring at the daggers. “It would be a bold move to send you directly to the Druids.”

“Louis do you know how to use this?” Harry asks instead, shifting the subject completely as he points at the bow and arrows.

“Um— no?”

“Sword?”

“No… I can use a crossbow. Why?”

“Good enough. If this happens again, we’ll go, damn be my Father, I have to protect my land as well.”

“I don’t know if… it is a wise idea, My Prince.”

“Great, because I do not need your approval, Louis, may I remind you I am in charge?” Harry responds with an irritated tone. Louis surprisingly doesn’t flinch — he knows his status as a servant and though it hurts that the prince doesn’t see him as an equal anymore, he is used to it now. “Anyhow, it could always be useful if you knew how to handle a bow and arrows when we go into Brocéliande again… In fact, I shall teach you now.”

Louis almost drops the weapon at that.

“My Prince, don’t you think you’re acting a little too irrationally?”

“Absolutely not. Now in position.”

Louis blinks, having no idea what that even meant.

“I— I do not fight, I’m a servant, not a fighter,” he tries to protest again.

“You’re _my_ servant, it’s different.” Harry looks so confident while saying that, as if he just made a point but Louis remains confused.

“Does Morris know how to fight then?”

“Absolutely not,” Harry snorts. "Have you seen him?"

“Then why—”

“Because I need you next to me, but I can’t risk your safety like last time. I do not care if Niall was there, what if he wasn’t?” _What if he’s unreliable_ , is implied. The prince approaches, hands grabbing Louis’ arms as he shows him how to properly hold the bow. Louis drops the arrows as a result but neither of them pays real attention to it, Harry simply kicks one arrow with his heel, making it fly back onto one of his hands. “You are a fast learner, aren’t you, Louis?”

“Uh— yeah?”

Harry chuckles behind him, their bodies still pressed together as the prince simply maneuvers the servant to help him with his aim. Louis breathes in deeply. Then gets an idea.

The prince places the arrow between his fingers for him then steps back.

“Go on, try to shoot.”

And so Louis does almost immediately. The arrow nearly misses the target altogether, planting itself just at the edge, and Louis winces. Harry hums.

“You weren’t looking properly,” the prince comments.

“I was though,” Louis protests weakly. He wasn’t. He really did not care about that target at all. He waits, watching Harry walk up to him again.

“Let’s try again—” Unfortunately, the prince doesn’t get to finish his sentence. Louis promptly drops the bow when Harry is close enough, turning around with a small smile on his lips as he hooks a foot behind Harry’s, tripping him backwards, a hand on Harry’s right shoulder as well, pushing him and accelerating the fall.

Louis sees the moment Harry seems to catch on and is about to turn around in order to catch himself before he hits the ground, which is why Louis promptly follows, jumping forward on the prince, sending the both of them rolling on the ground. Harry groans, hands gripping Louis’ shoulders just as Louis’ back meets the ground but the servant bends a knee and pushes him off to the side, reversing their position and sitting directly on Harry’s stomach, brandishing a dagger now under the prince’s chin.

Panting heavily, Harry looks up at him in pure surprise and confusion. “Where… where did the dagger even come from?”

Louis pulls away, chuckling a little as he taps his right thigh. Intrigued, the prince reaches a hand forward, immediately feeling the shape of a scabbard under the cloth.

“I lied, I know how to fight,” the servant says. “I had to travel back from Mercia to here alone since the King did not send anyone, Aelith prepared me beforehand and my father made me this dagger when he learned I would have to go into expeditions with you and the knights.”

“You could have trained with us,” Harry points out.

Louis shrugs. “A servant is not supposed to fight My Prince, others would talk. Some of the servants still see me as an outsider, I did not want to risk being suspected of being a traitor, considering the recent attacks.”

“I—” Harry frowns, propping himself on his elbows though he doesn’t seem too bothered by Louis still sitting on him. “Who are those servants?” His expression suddenly darkens and Louis shakes his head with a sigh.

“It’s not important my prince—”

“Harry. I told you you can call me Harry when we’re alone.”

Louis softens, a smile taking over his lips before he realises. “My apologies. _Harry_ , it isn’t important, really.”

“It most certainly _is_ ,” Harry protests as he sits upright again. Louis realises he is now sitting on the prince’s lap and goes to stand up but the older boy stops him, grabbing his forearms. “My Father told people to not give me your letters and pretend you never sent anything to me.”

At that, Louis frowns. “W— What?”

“He burned them,” Harry sighs. “He kept you away. He told you to come back without any escort. Was that a test? To see if you’d survive?” Louis thinks about that for a second, eyes getting lost in the grass as he recalls every interaction he has had with the King since he came back. The odd gentleness and kindness but also the expectation in his eyes. _You know Brocéliande more than any of my knights, Aelith made sure of that._

The difference from when he was a kid and only a distraction for the prince is that now, the King finds him _useful_.

“All of this somehow— feels like he planned it. But suddenly he wants to keep you close and even gave you that… _room_.” Louis frowns at the sudden venom slithering back in the prince’s voice at the word. He did not expect a room to have such a history. “It doesn’t make sense. My Father does not fucking make sense and he refuses to tell me anything even though I will rule this kingdom soon, I should know what’s going on.” The prince lets out another heavy sigh as he slumps forward, head now resting on Louis’ shoulder. The servant frantically looks around, hoping no one is watching the scene. “But you do, don’t you Louis? He has told you some things that you are not allowed to tell me.”

Louis bites his lips, breathing getting shakier as he feels energy under his fingertips again, hoping Harry would not notice the sudden warmth trapped in between their chests. For some reason, Harry renders his magic out of control and that _scares_ him. He needs to find a solution to his predicament.

He sighs, letting his head gently loll to the side, ear brushing Harry’s curls gently.

“I’m sorry, Harry,” he whispers at last. “My lips are sealed.”

“I know, I will not hold it against you,” Harry mumbles. “I just wish he trusted me.”

“He wants to protect you.”

The prince sighs, clearly exasperated to hear this excuse. “I know,” he says simply, pulling back and tapping Louis’ thigh, silently asking him to stand up again. The servant does, dusting off the dirt from his clothes, having forgotten they did roll onto the ground just a couple of minutes ago.

“Oh and Louis?”

Louis only hums, tilting his head.

“You have permission to talk freely.” Louis smiles brightly. “Only— Only while we’re alone, however.” Well, that was expected.

The servant nods. “I will use that right wisely.”

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

“I think you and Harry formed a bond, right before you were sent away,” Niall tells him while Louis is glaring at the pile of half-burned books he just created in the secret room of the library the King gave him. So much for the additional knowledge about physics and alchemy he was supposed to learn.

The sun has set a couple of hours ago, the moon shining right in the middle of the only window illuminating the room, but after his discussion with Harry, Louis has felt completely relentless, struggling to contain his magic even during supper while he served the royals their food and drinks. It wasn’t the same kind of restlessness that he went through the first night he came back where the dragon refused to let him sleep. It was different. It was fucking _annoying_.

Niall took notice of it since for once the small servant was the one keeping him awake and he suggested they sneak out to find a solution. Louis brought him to the room but as soon as he locked the door behind them, somehow all the magic that built up inside Louis blew up and he accidentally burned an entire shelf down that he managed to partially save by muttering _“Acwence tha bælblysse”_ under his breath. He is used to that particular spell to extinguish fire since… it had happened before.

_A lot_. But only when he first discovered his magic. Fire is his thing, he supposes.

“And what does that have to do with me being unable to contain my magic around him anymore?” Louis groans. “How does a bond even work between a warlock and a human?”

“I have no idea, but somehow you did. Your magic seems to know this is the person you are supposed to protect.”

"Well can my magic understand I need to protect myself first?!” Louis groans frustrated, sending another row of books on the floor as energy seems to burst out of him again. Niall gets hit by one on the head, eliciting a groan from him as well, one of pain, though.

The knight seems to want to say something but then his eyes fall on the book that just hit him, intrigued. Louis follows his gaze and gasps as he reads the title — Creatures of Magic. The servant grabs it immediately.

“I thought the King had gotten rid of every book that had to do with magic!” Louis exclaims. “There must be information about Shades here.”

“You might want to open it first.”

Louis frowns at Niall’s scared and careful tone, only to realise as he skims through the heavy book that half of the pages have been burned and the other half covered in some sort of ink, making it impossible to decipher what was once written on the old pages. The sorcerer gently grazes the pages, not feeling any remains of magic on them — the flames that burned this precious knowledge was organic.

The servant groans again, closing the book with anger and frustration curling up in his stomach.

“Louis—”

“ _Ongebringan_!”

Niall yelps again as almost every book starts to levitate from the shelves. With a quick flick of Louis’ wrist, the books open, only to reveal burned or torn pages. The sorcerer sighs, putting them back on the shelves.

“Alright, Louis, I think you need to calm down first,” Niall tries again, hands gripping Louis’ shoulders as if it could help the sorcerer with the overflowing energy currently coursing through him. “Let us think rationally. There must be a spell that could restore those books, right?”

Louis shrugs. “If there is, I don’t know it.” It is frustrating. While learning under Aelith’s care, he felt on top of the world, like he was mastering a whole new world but now that he is faced with actual experienced warlocks threatening his home, well, he feels like he is lacking. Of course, the extent of his magic could not be only contained in the grimoire Aelith lent him — but he did not expect to be thrown out of his comfort zone so quickly, a little over a month into his departure from Ealdor.

“What about a basic healing spell?” the knight asks.

“It only works on people, Niall.”

“Well, it’s worth a shot, isn’t it?”

Louis sighs, looking up at the books again. It is.

Be damn his lack of control, for now, this seems a little more important. He puts a hand against the wooden shelf, hoping the touch would increase the possibility of the spell working. Niall walks up to him, a hand on his shoulder and a small encouraging smile on his lips. Louis exhales, willing his heart to calm down.

Healing spells depend solely on the wielder’s concentration. Unlike light or fire that usually ends up bursting out of his palm as soon as the spell comes out of the sorcerer’s mouth and its intensity depends on the intent, healing is a longer and more tedious process. Louis’ impatience often led to failures when he learned the spell and he is aware he will need to get better with the tension rising in Albion. It is also tiring. To heal is to be willing to share your own strength and if used too liberally it could lead to disasters… perhaps _death_. Only the most powerful sorcerers could heal with a simple hand gesture and Louis shivers thinking about the woman who was executed. She was a healer, a powerful one if she was able to help so many people before getting caught. And yet she could not save her own life.

_Focus Louis_. He spares a last glance towards the shelves again and sighs. He is not sure how it would work with inanimate objects if it will even do anything or not, but he hopes he is not about to make a mistake.

“ _Þurhhæle dolgbenn_.”

He keeps his eyes closed, feeling the familiar warmth under his fingertips against the cold wood. Opening his eyes again when he is certain the connection has been made, he directs his attention towards the book, a subtle glow surrounding them now. He tries to not gasp, surprised it even worked but then Niall’s grip on his shoulder suddenly tightens as a cry of pain rings against his ear and he startles away, effectively breaking the spell.

“Niall what are—”

Louis doesn’t get to finish his sentence because as soon as he turns around to yell at the knight, the latter just collapses, falling backwards. He gasps, reaching forward to catch Niall’s arm but ends up being sent onto the hardwood floor as well.

He bumps his knee against the wood and his side against Niall’s armour and groans under his breath before quickly getting up again to make sure Niall hasn’t hit his head.

He hasn’t, surprisingly, but he is paler than before. Louis frantically searches for his pulse, letting out a long sigh of relief when he easily feels the Mercian’s calm heartbeat against his fingers. The man is incredibly cold however yet he seems rather unwounded despite his sudden collapse and paleness.

“Did I do that? What happened…” he whispers to himself. Bringing a hand to Niall’s forehead, he takes a deep breath and repeats the healing spell again, eyes wide open this time, worried.

The familiar golden glow radiates from his palm, quickly enveloping the knight’s entire body. Louis starts to sweat a little, heartbeat getting quicker as he feels his own strength weaken but unwilling to stop the process just yet. He watches as his magic slowly brings back colour onto Niall’s skin and then he pulls back. With a flick of his wrist, the golden dust that was encasing Niall rises up then fades away.

Looking down, Niall appears to only be sleeping now. He is still incredibly cold.

That was odd but Louis does not really have the heart to dwell too much into it, tiredness taking over his body. He should take them both back to their room and discuss the events the next day.

With much trouble — and a little help of a levitation spell —, he manages to drag Niall back to their chamber. As he carefully places the man on his mattress and goes to lay on his own bed, he spots something shiny right beside his pillow. A small bottle. Intrigued he grabs it and uncaps it carefully.

“This isn’t a healing tonic,” he whispers to himself as he holds his nose just in case, observing the way how the yellow, almost translucent liquid reacts while agitated. It starts to glow after a while and Louis closes the bottle, nodding to himself.

Turns out, his training as an apprentice physician paid out. This is a poisonous tonic enhanced by magic. He squints his eyes at Niall again. “ _Neosie þu þa swaþu_ ,” he whispers to the bottle, and a faint trail of red light forms around it, connecting it to Niall’s hands.

He’s the traitor.

Louis does not quite know which emotion he is supposed to feel. Betrayal, probably, but confusion takes over him instead of anger because in a sense… _This was predictable_.

He shakes his head and quietly slips the small bottle into his bag. He thinks about Harry’s words for a moment but brushes them aside — he wouldn’t denounce Niall… just yet at least. If they put him in the dungeon or set him to be executed, there is no way he would talk. He will figure this out himself.

_Louis._

The servant freezes then groans, recognising the familiar voice suddenly occupying his thoughts.

_Hurry, young warlock._

Louis spares a last glance towards Niall’s passed out body, conflicting feelings running through his entire body. It just doesn’t make sense, is the thing. If the Mercian is there with the sole purpose of killing someone, why hasn’t he done it yet? Why did he leave the poison basically under Louis’ pillow? Or perhaps he’s already done the act and is trying to put the blame on him — no that is not possible either or the whole castle would have been alerted.

_Hopefully, he did get closer to the royal family._ The witch’s words ring back to him. Is Niall the Shade in question? But Louis could not feel any magic emanate from him unless Shades are not creatures of magic but simply another race of humans? No. Liam or Harry would have learned about them during their tutoring. And Niall hasn’t gotten that close to the royal family, in fact, Harry and Gemma are still mostly bothered by him. However, when it comes to the King—

_Do not make me repeat myself, Alaois._

Ah. _Alaois_. That is the sign that Louis really needs to go. No sleep for him, then.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

“Is there any transportation spell because it would be useful,” is the first thing Louis says once he faces the dragon, the sole of his shoes wet from the cave’s humidity. He has no torch with him this time, only his own flame in his hand. It is weak, but enough for him to see the shape of the giant creature observing him.

“There is if you had learned to speak the language of the Old Religion, instead of just a few spells here and there,” the dragon tells him back and Louis swears that somehow a smile had appeared on his face. Or Louis is just really tired.

“Afraid they are all dead.”

“I believe you know two who are still very much alive if they even care to truly teach you the ways of a proper warlock.”

Louis breathes in deeply at the implications the dragon is throwing, willing himself to remain calm.

“You have some nerves for a creature chained to this cave and nameless.”

“Rúnwita.”

Huh?

“That is my name, young warlock.” There is a hint of amusement in the voice now.

_Wise_. That name means _wise_ , he remembers reading it in one of Aelith’s books. “Rúnwita,” Louis repeats, watching as the dragon leans forward, head almost reaching the edge Louis is standing on. The sorcerer stops himself from reaching forward again, like drawn to the creature, but he cannot ignore the curiosity inside of him wanting to find out what the scales feel like under his palms.

“Now, I believe you have questions for me,” Rúnwita says.

“You called me here, actually.”

“Oh right.” The dragon blinks as if he genuinely forgot. Perhaps he did, Louis figures. “The boy is no danger, in fact, you shall keep him close and your life would be less at risk.”

The sorcerer blinks at such bluntness, expecting another vague prophecy thrown his way. He frowns.

“He was carrying poison?”

“And he has been protecting you and helping you this whole time,” Rùnwita points out, wings suddenly stretching out, startling Louis. “Whoever sent him — their magic was not strong enough to remove his free will.”

“Last time you told me to be aware of friendly faces for they may be deceiving me!” Louis accuses, watching the way the dragon’s eyes shift ever so slightly to look at him. “You have no idea what you are talking about, are you? What do you actually want?”

“To be free,” the dragon almost roars, voice raising. Louis takes a defensive stand. “Fear not, I will not attack you for you are my only way out. Unfortunately, you are too weak as of now.”

“Was that whole destiny a lie as well?”

“Not all of it,” Rùnwita admits. “I do believe the only way for Albion to be united again is for Desmond to be replaced. Prince Harry, Lady Gemma, or through a _coup_? That I don’t know. Harry seems like the better option, truly, especially with you by his side and the bond you share. You will play a role, whether as an active participant or a passive one.”

Louis sighs, sitting on the edge just as the dragon gets as close as he can as well, neck outstretched enough to rest his head next to where Louis sits. The sorcerer tentatively raises a hand, grazing his fingertips over the dark scales.

He can not even be mad, he realises. Twenty years, if he remembers correctly, Rùnwita has been chained here for twenty years. He can feel how restless he is getting to be let free. But to what intent?

_Be aware of friendly faces for they may be the most deceiving_. Perhaps the dragon was unknowingly talking about himself, Louis muses. If someday he manages to find a way to break the chains, what would the creature do? Would he attack Camelot? Or would he be _wise_ enough to simply fly away?

“How can you even know what is happening on the surface if you are trapped under here?”

“Through you, young warlock,” the dragon replies, scales warming Louis’ palm as he speaks. “Camelot has been deprived of magic for decades. As soon as you walked through the walls of Camelot, I could feel you. A bond was created instantly.”

A _bond_ , Louis repeats in his head. _This thing again._

“How does a bond work?”

Rùnwita hums. “Sometimes it is intentional, like the way I clung to you as soon as I felt you and your magic had no other choice but to let me in. Other times, it is equivalent to the relationships humans share with each other. You have formed a bond with Prince Harry, Sir Liam, and this Niall.”

“Wait— Niall as well?”

“I believe he should be the one explaining furthermore because his bond… is similar to the one you and I have. He is a creature who needs magic to be alive. You are the only practising warlock in Camelot and the witch’s magic ordering him wasn’t strong enough compared to the strengthened bond you created with him.” The dragon lets out a breath, small flames quickly coming out of his nose. “He is a harmless Shade.”

Louis wants to believe that — but he guesses he will need to confront Niall himself at some point.

“You won’t tell me what a Shade is?”

“I do not want you to figure out how to summon one, that is dark magic.”

“So how are you different from Aelith and Stephen keeping knowledge from me?” Louis points out.

He doesn’t get a response, only a disgruntled grunt.

“Rùnwita,” he starts again, watching the dragon’s golden eyes shift to him, squinting ever so slightly in apprehension, “How did you end up here?”

Silence stretches out for a few more seconds as the dragon closes his eyes.

“It is a long story.”

“If you want me to help, you will need to tell me one day or another. My weakness stems from my lack of knowledge doesn’t it?”

Rùnwita sighs. “It is not a pleasant reminder,” the creature admits, eyes still closed as Louis continues to rub his scales gently. “Have you ever wondered why the Queen died? It was shortly before Desmond declared war against magic, perhaps a year or two,” he begins. “You were not born yet.”

Louis frowns. He already knows that. When he was born, the Purge was only starting which is why his mother managed to escape despite staying a few more months to care for him and breastfeed him as long as she could until the threat was too big. From what his father has told him now, tensions were arising for a year or so since the Queen’s death with Desmond starting to separate sorcerers from common humans and then slowly but surely pushing any magical creatures outside of the kingdom, and then he simply fastened the process by using force. By the time he was handed to the castle by his father at barely one-year-old, the war was at its most violent but Louis, of course, was oblivious to all of it, taken under the wings of the toddler prince.

The realisation hits him.

“It coincides with Harry’s birth, doesn’t it?” he asks, floored at the very idea. Lady Gemma already told him Queen Anne died in childbirth but Louis has trouble understanding where magic comes into play.

“There is a dormant magic in the kingdom,” the dragon, “but it is too feeble for me to decipher from who it is.”

“Stephen?”

“No. He willingly gave up his magic and if he were to cast a spell, it would not be as powerful as it could have been twenty years ago. He was the one who helped Desmond to imprison me here. A powerful sorcerer he was, I am afraid he let his relationship with the King blindside him.” A whole shiver goes through Louis’ body at the revelation, hand freezing over the dragon’s scales as he takes in a deep breath. “Some realities are hard to hear, young warlock.”

The servant does not respond, frowning to himself.

“I believe this dormant magic lies in prince Harry, meaning magic must have had a part in Queen Anne’s death. I know little about what happened in detail and I am afraid that is something you will have to find on your own but soon after her death, I had accounts of my own species being captured and then killed. Many have fled and I hold the hope that some of them are still living, away from Camelot and probably far away from Albion.”

“Why didn’t you?” Louis asks, voice small.

“I tried. Unfortunately, Desmond had fooled a dragonlord into thinking he wanted to discuss a compromise if he brought him the last dragon on the land. He ended up asking Stephen to trap me here as an example of what could happen to any other magical creatures if they ever thought of crossing into Camelot and executed the dragonlord. Unfortunate circumstances. Do not stop petting me.”

Louis startles at that, immediately resuming his gentle caresses on the creature’s nose, seeing the way his whole gigantic body seems to relax at that.

“So what you are saying is that there is a possibility that Harry has magic and for me to be able to free you I need to get stronger than my mentor?”

“Indeed.”

_Be aware of friendly faces for they may be the most deceiving._ Niall was completely out of his mind — doubts only rising between Stephen and the dragon and Louis still remains unsure who he should trust, if any.

“Caught in a war you had no idea you had a part in, I am sorry, young one,” the dragon whispers into the darkness as he finally pulls away. “Please stay safe, keep Niall close, and protect prince Harry for he may be our last chance of bringing Camelot’s glory back.”

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Liam comes back five days later and in the meantime, Niall has been avoiding Louis, which truly was expected but still took the latter off guard. The servant still kept an eye on him when he could in between his duties to Harry and Lady Gemma but the Mercian remained mostly at the tavern or helping to train the new knights, serving as a replacement for Liam.

It only confused Louis more. This man is supposed to be a traitor, he is the _Shade_ that the witch sent to gain information and visibly to also _kill_ someone — most probably the King. And Niall had gotten close to the old monarch, he even got his approval to stay though he cannot be knighted just yet. So why is he helping this kingdom to prepare for the upcoming attack instead? Even using his knowledge of the Druids’ techniques to teach new ways of fighting?

Even Harry ended up warming up to him a little, inclined to learn more.

Nothing made sense.

The three of them just happened to be at the stables, Louis brushing the horses’ manes while Harry and Niall were discussing the rules of an upcoming new duel when Liam appears, fatigue written all over his face and distractingly handing over his charger to another servant before walking towards them.

Louis is the first one who spots him, gasping as he lets go of the brush he was using to instead run towards the knight and almost knock him over with a hug, ignoring how filthy the man truly is after a week away. He could not care less.

“My, you look so tired,” the servant laments, pulling back and holding his friend’s face instead now.

Liam smiles weakly against Louis’ hands that start gently dusting the dirt off his face.

“I’m fine, Louis, I need to report immediately to the King however but glad I could say I’m back first.”

“Wait, tell us first,” Harry says, voice firm as he approaches, not asking any question. Louis sees Niall approaching as well from the corner of his eyes, frown deepening his face.

Liam sighs, taking Louis’ hands in his to be able to look at the prince to respond. “The King was right, they were planning on corrupting the water sources. They were taken by surprise when they saw us and one of them talked about how their Shade must have turned against them.”

“A Shade?” Niall asks. Louis frowns slightly, keeping his gaze on Liam’s face but noticing the slight edge to the Mercian’s voice.

Why is he playing innocent?

The knight, on his part, sends him a squinted look, guards suddenly up, probably upon realising Niall has been relatively new to Camelot.

“I’m assuming they have someone within the kingdom providing them with information. Or well. Had.”

Harry frowns. “What do you mean?”

“Heard them muttering they would kill the Shade when they realised we were ambushing them.” Liam sighs, frown deepening. “They made it clear that the only way for Albion to be at peace again is if the King let go of the past and made magic legal again or war is waiting at our doors. Prince Harry, they spared us. I cannot stress this enough: they _spared_ us, we were not prepared for their spells and we will not be prepared if they decide to attack the kingdom.”

“This kingdom took down magic once, it can do it a second time,” the prince assures, voice rising in an offended tone. Louis pulls away slowly, a little intimidated by the current intense glares the two men are throwing at each other.

“The first time they were taken by surprise and unprepared,” Liam points out, voice rising ever so slightly as well yet keeping a solemn and respectful tone to it while addressing the royal. “They have prepared for years.”

“And they were peaceful people,” Niall suddenly speaks up, sombre tone accentuated by the lack of his signature easy smile, properly unsettling Louis and the two others. “If what Liam says is true, Camelot can only hope it won’t completely burn into the ground after one spell.”

A heavy silence settles between them and Louis bites the inside of his mouth as the executed woman’s words, the first words he heard upon his arrival after years, ring back to him all over again. _This whole kingdom will go down in flames_. Fire, why does everything go back to fire? The more he hears about Camelot burning, the more it sounds like a promise, a _prophecy_.

“We need to tell my father immediately,” Harry says curtly, already walking away and not sparing a single look towards Louis. The servant blinks, not certain he should follow as well but Liam sighs and shakes his head.

“I think it’s best if you do not come,” the knight says, “let us catch up at The Rising Sun later tonight?”

“Sure thing!” Niall answers while Louis only nods with a little smile, not trusting his voice to speak just yet.

The knight runs then to catch up with the prince. Another silence. This is the first time he is properly left alone with the _Shade_ ever since the library incident.

Niall awkwardly coughs, prompting the sorcerer to send him a curious look, one eyebrow raised. “Louis… can I talk to you for a second?”

Louis briefly glances back at Liam’s and Harry’s retreating figures then nods.

“Sure, should we go somewhere else or…” A lot of people have been walking around them, desperately trying to not eavesdrop in a conversation the prince was a part in. Now, Louis can see them shamelessly observing them, all ears and eager eyes.

“Somewhere else,” Niall answers immediately.

Louis nods solemnly, hand hovering over his dagger as he follows Niall back inside the castle.

He probably won’t need it but. Just in case.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, the Druids are starting their attacks, wonder where that's going. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯   
> Next chapter promises some nouis and new characters coming in, see you then x


	4. A Love Still Unnamed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis figures out what Niall really is, Harry faces for the first time the effects of his father's actions on a personal level and Lady Gemma gets to finally truly talk to her brother and unravel a family secret.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would consider this chapter the first one that actually kicks things off... at least for Louis' and Harry's characters, emotionally speaking (not romantic yet, H is stubborn ok). In my original draft, the second half of this chapter was supposed to happen later but I figured I should stop stalling so here we go c: Also two new characters! Completely original but I'll let you guess from who their names are inspired by. No, still no Zayn, but he will appear at some point!
> 
> As for the writing update, as expected it's been a lot harder to write with uni on the side, so I might slow down the posting schedule sorry about thaaat, I just wanna avoid leaving for whole months! But I think I just need to get used to (online) uni life again and I think finding time (and inspiration) to write will come easier :) two weeks is not enough for me to truly adapt haha
> 
> [Tumblr Post](https://lwtisloved.tumblr.com/post/640491465750003712/truth-behind-golden-eyes-by-myenglishrose-a) ¦¦ [Twitter Post](https://twitter.com/darlinlou/status/1350504077084520450?s=20)  
> Good reading x

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

The golden sun of the evening peaks through the window as Louis opens the door to the library’s room, creaking on its way. Amidst the heavy silence, he can somehow perfectly hear Niall’s breathing, steady and calculated, as if the man was trying to simulate a calm appearance. That pretence seems to fall apart as soon as the door creaks close behind them and Louis pins him with a gaze full of expectations and wariness.

“You know,” is the first thing the man says with a nervous smile.

“Depends on what you think I know,” Louis responds with a raised eyebrow. He feels like his face has been stuck in that one particular expression for hours now.

“The poison.” Louis nods. “I purposely left it there for you to find— I originally planned on telling you everything earlier but then the _incident_ here happened and— I needed to find out why that happened.”

Louis doesn’t say anything still, eyes focused on every trait of Niall’s face to try to decipher any lies the man may be trying to feed him. The knight takes it as his queue to continue his explanation.

“The witch, she— she broke the connection. And somehow I’m still alive.”

At that, the sorcerer frowns at the wording.

“What do you mean you’re still alive?”

Louis yelps when the knight suddenly gets rid of his chest plate and pulls his linen under-shirt on the side, revealing his bare skin, and then grabs his hand, plastering it against his chest. A shiver goes through the servant’s body as his palm meets Niall’s cold skin. He is about to yell and ask what Niall is even doing but then gasps upon realising what this is all about, hand pressed against Niall’s heart. Or where Niall’s heart is _supposed_ to be.

“You… you don’t have a heartbeat anymore.” His blood runs cold when Niall nods but doesn’t let go of his wrist. He had a heartbeat when Louis healed him, didn't he? Or did he imagine it what with Niall breathing and appearing normal again after suddenly collapsing out of nowhere?

“A Shade is someone a powerful sorcerer brings back to life with an ulterior motive, the Shade is linked to that person and can only live to fulfill that person’s need. A Shade’s loyalty is supposed to be unbreakable yet something must have gone wrong. The witch who brought me back… broke the spell, probably thinking I was the one who told Camelot about their plan.”

“… That is… that is the truth, you told me. I never would have known if you hadn’t told me.”

“I— I know.”

“You took that risk then… why?”

“I… don’t know?” Niall admits with a sheepish smile, cheeks reddening slightly. Louis frowns, finally detecting a lie. “Point is. I was sent here to get information… and then kill the King. The poison was given to me only later. I never got the courage to do it, really not certain murdering the King would benefit the Druids, after all.”

“Wait. You’re telling me Druids have been walking around Camelot under our noses?!”

Niall frowns at that, confusion written in his eyes. “They are but only humans to those who do not pay attention.”

“I would have felt them.”

“Only if you came into contact with one,” the Shade points out.

A groan escapes his throat. “Alright, go back!” Louis exclaims as he gently pulls his hand away, shaking the tingly feeling suddenly settling in his fingers. He watches as Niall properly puts his clothes back on and a voice inside Louis’ mind wonders what the scene would look like if someone were to walk in right now unprompted. “So you’re technically dead, even double dead since the witch broke the connection, yet somehow you’re still alive?”

“Well I thought about it in the last week,” Niall admits, taking Louis’ hand in his, carefully. Louis lets him, brows furrowing. “The only thing that could save me is magic. Camelot is devoid of magic—”

“Except for me,” Louis finishes, heart stuttering when a gentle glow starts to emanate from their hands, warm and welcoming. “The healing spell! Is that— is that what might have helped as well?” he asks suddenly.

Niall blinks slowly, struggling to tear his gaze away from their glowing hands. “You must have pronounced it at the same time she broke the connection and it somehow stopped me from… dying again. But.”

Oh. There is a but?

“I am not properly _living_ either. I avoided you these past few days to see if I were truly free but— whenever you were too far, I could feel myself weaken and get sick. No matter what, I am not human anymore, and to remain on the plane of existence, I need another soul to cling to.”

Niall’s hand suddenly tightens around his while his face contorts in frustration. Louis can see tears shining in his eyes that the man holds back. Gently, Louis brings his other hand to rest on top of Niall’s, gently rubbing his thumb on the skin. Niall’s breathing remains ragged but the deep lines on his face disappear for a moment.

“I know I am asking a lot, especially after betraying your trust, but only you can help me. I— I know the spell that would make me _your_ Shade.”

He sees Niall’s eyes light up, gold shining in them for a brief moment as he suggests this, a hint of the flicker of magic still in him. Louis remains silent for a couple of seconds.

“How can I be sure you won’t betray me the way you have betrayed your witch?” Louis asks slowly, keeping his face as neutral as possible, watching Niall wince.

“Well I— I’m in… uh, I lo— I don’t know how you would take it, it’s just—” Niall’s whole face becomes red suddenly, eyes avoiding the servant’s at all costs.

Louis smiles softly. He is not an idiot and he absolutely knows what is going through Niall’s mind as he stutters an answer. _Infatuation_. Unfortunately for the knight, love has no place in his life right now as he told Lady Gemma. He sighs.

 _Stephen’s relationship with the King blindsided him_ , Rùnwita’s words ring back to him. Were feelings really that strong that they could crush a man’s morals and break a dark spell? Leading to chaos and disobedience?

Is that why _his_ magic has been so dangerous whenever he is around Harry as well?

He doesn't know if he wants to think about it, actually.

“Calm down, I get it,” Louis speaks up, at last, prompting Niall to freeze.

“… You do?”

The sorcerer nods solemnly, smiling gently. “What’s the spell?”

“Wait!” The knight suddenly shuffles towards the small purse wrapped around his waist, pulling out a small key attached to a silver chain. “This— this belonged to my uncle. For the spell to be more efficient,” _for someone who is not familiar with dark spells_ goes unsaid, Louis figures, “an item is needed to represent the actual link between sorcerer and shade. The witch enchanted a brooch I got rid of in the forest, I figured this would be more appropriate for us as I can wear it under my armour.”

“You really thought about it, huh?”

“My survival does depend on it.”

Fair enough.

“What’s the spell?”

“ _Grið fæstne mid þisse tintregian sawle.”_ Louis gulps upon hearing it — that is the longest spell he’s ever heard.

“Alright.” His voice shakes a little, scared of messing up. _Fuck_.

“You can do it,” Niall reassures, slipping the key into Louis’ hands. It only occurs to the sorcerer now that the knight is quite _literally_ giving him the key to his _heart_. “Louis, your magic is stronger than you think.”

“Alright,” the servant repeats, this time with a little more conviction in his voice as he approaches slowly.

Louis secures the small silver chain around Niall’s neck, holding his breath as the key shines as soon as it touches the Shade’s chest. Louis takes a deep breath as he touches the now pendant, feeling the warmth before quickly touching his own heart. Feeling Niall’s eyes on him, the sorcerer doesn’t falter, murmuring the spell. _Grið fæstne mid þisse tintregian sawle._ Nothing happens for a couple of seconds and Louis worries he has done something wrong, about to pull away, when the room suddenly bathes in a warm golden-like light. He feels Niall shudder under his palm as their souls link and he gasps upon seeing the books start to float in the air around the concentrated energy forming a sphere around the two men. The sorcerer’s hands start to burn and his head is pounding, having never used this much of his magical power for one single spell before.

And then everything drops. Louis included.

Before he collapses onto the floor, the knight grabs Louis and turns them around so he can soften the fall for the small servant. They are both panting and sweating now and Louis cannot find any strength in him to even look up at Niall, eyes staring into the normal-looking key instead.

“Did… did it work?” he whispers. “I feel so drained.”

“Sorry,” Niall chuckles, sounding like he has been reborn. Which is pretty accurate, Louis guesses. _To heal one’s soul, the spell caster shall be willing to share his own energy._ Of course, it had to be stronger when the spell is trying to give life back into a half-dead being. “I think it did but we’ll only be able to see later.”

“Alright… I still have a lot of questions but I also… don’t have the energy right now,” Louis mumbles, burying his face into Niall’s chest instead. He is comfortable there, he decides. He can’t feel his limbs or legs anyway.

“And I will answer all of them, for now, you need some rest, you powerful little warlock.”

“Okay but first I don’t actually control you now right? Because that is a lot of pressure and I already have a spoiled prince on my back.”

The shade laughs wholeheartedly again, all his previous worries and fears apparently gone. “Well, technically you can control anyone you want if you know the right spell.” Louis never thought of that, actually, the idea making his insides cold. “But I will remain by your side until the day you die or the day you get bored of me.”

Louis actually huffs at that, smiling.

“I doubt I ever will.”

Only then does the servant feel it. Niall’s heartbeat fluttering against his cheek.

Sign of life. Feelings. _Love_.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

_Love was something Louis always struggled to understand._

_A ball was being organised in the castle, in the hope to find a possible future suitor for Lady Gemma, which the latter was not excited about. Louis was actually the one in charge of sewing the princess’ dress and adding the last details, slipping a few dried flowers he had picked a few days prior in between the delicate seams of the fabric, knowing she would love it._

_Why he was given the task when the castle held many talented seamstresses, Louis was not sure. His hands hurt and more than once he worried he dirtied the dress with his blood but fortunately never did. It was Harry who found him when he finished the dress, holding it up. The dress was obviously way taller than he was, the bottom of it scraping the floor._

_“You did this yourself?!” the prince exclaimed excitedly, only then did Louis turn his head towards the door, seeing the small prince all dressed up as well, clad in a royal blue tunic with a white rose attached to it right where his heart was and a black bonnet in his hand, not hiding his curls just yet. “Gemma will be so happy!”_

_“You think so?” Louis inquired, blushing a little as he folded the dress over his arm. “She did not seem happy about the ball.”_

_“Perhaps so, but she loves to dress up anyway! Speaking of.” The prince’s grin widened, if possible, as he looked the servant up and down. “You also need to change.”_

_Louis sent him a puzzled look. “I do? Stephen said I just had to stay on the side and watch.”_

_“Nonsense! You are coming with me to the ball.”_

_“But the King said you had to spend the evening by Princess Camille’s side.”_

_Harry huffed. “She’s boring.”_

_“Harry!”_

_“It is true, we are children anyway, I am not marrying her when we’re adults.”_

_“Who said you would have to?”_

_“Father! He said that it is to reinforce our alliance with Agrowven but it is stupid we are already strong allies anyway it would make more sense to try to form an alliance with Caerleon since disputes and occasional fights over some land are still going on and draining both of our sources.”_

_Louis blinked as he witnessed probably for the first time the prince assuming his role as a future ruler. He shook his head with a smile. “Very well, Harry, but I am not the one confronting your father if he gets upset, alright?” He had already been yelled out enough for distracting or disrupting Harry’s education, he did not need a public humiliation at the ball but he also could not say no to his prince._

_“Perfect!” Harry happily obliged. “Now let’s get this dress to my sister before dusk falls, shall we?”_

_Lady Gemma was absolutely delighted when she put on the dress, twirling as many times as her legs allowed. Louis could not help his own satisfied smile._

_“Let me lay upon you an important secret, boys,” she said then, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “A lover should happen naturally and not given to you on a silver plate. Tonight, I will not pick a suitor and perhaps I never will. Love has no place here.”_

_That left the boys visibly confused as they looked at each other._

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

There are guards in front of their chamber now. And neither of them is Liam so Louis keeps a scowling face as he observes the two men who are staring back down at him, one in particular, tall, pale skin and scrawny face, with clear amusement in his grey eyes.

“Hello, I am Sir Nicholas,” he introduces himself, taking Louis’ hand and shaking it unprompted. “And this is Sir Grégoire. We have been assigned by the King to guard your door - and you, which, may I say, is quite a curiosity since you are…” _a servant_. It apparently isn’t worthy enough for the knight to even utter as he makes a vague hand gesture towards Louis. Louis huffs, moving his gaze from the arrogant knight to the sweet-looking one who is sending Sir Nicholas quite the annoyed glance of his own.

When their eyes meet, Sir Grégoire simply smiles with a nod of his head, brown eyes twinkling with a hint of… admiration? Does Louis know him? He must have been there in the few hunts Louis has led, he gathers.

“Why is that?” Niall asks suddenly, shifting both knights’ attention on him as if they had just noticed his presence. “Why are you looking at me like that, I literally trained you for a whole week while Sir Liam was gone.”

Louis lets out a chuckle upon seeing the offended frown appearing on Sir Nicholas and Sir Grégoire’s faces upon remembering that a common man was assigned as their superior during training.

“The King has reinforced control over the kingdom after the Druids’ threats so he had us guarding most of the rooms and sent groups into the main towns,” Sir Grégoire answers then.

“All of that in the last hour or so?”

“We had reports of attacks near the walls of Camelot,” Sir Nicholas informs them. Louis lets out a small gasp. “They did not enter but they did weaken our fortification. They’re taunting us.”

“This is all well but I am only a servant and I already have this one with me,” Louis says as he points to Niall who shrugs with a big smile. Ever since the soul-bonding, the man has been positively glowing whenever Louis is looking at him or mentioning him and he would lie if he said it did not endear him dearly. “And he could beat the both of you with his eyes closed so I really don’t think your presence is needed.”

“You’re a feisty thing, aren’t you?” Sir Nicholas says and the hint of interest in his voice coupled with him leaning forward with a sly grin makes Louis take a step back, an unsettling feeling bubbling up inside of him.

Niall must have felt it as well because he immediately steps in front of Louis, a daring glare sent towards the knight. Nicholas rolls his eyes while Sir Grégoire sighs, punching the other knight on the shoulder.

“Prince Harry said you cannot get your filthy hands on him,” Sir Grégoire sneers, confusing Louis furthermore, truly. Why would that even be a rule that the prince thought necessary to establish with this flirty knight?

“The pretty boy should have a say in it, shouldn’t he?” Sir Nicholas replies.

“Quite presumptuous of you to assume I would even say yes to begin with,” Louis snarls. “You still did not answer my question.”

“Well, apparently you are important enough to the King, the prince, and the princess,” Sir Grégoire simply answers with a confused shrug of his own. Louis frowns, that ought to raise even more suspicions within his fellow servants and he is not sure he is looking forward to the next day.

Niall doesn’t seem as surprised at the information but suspicion is still shining in his eyes as he looks pointedly at the two knights who eventually start fidgeting under the scrutiny. “You know something else.”

“We may, but we are not allowed to tell,” Sir Grégoire answers with an apologetic smile. He seems genuine, at least.

“I have to say, with all the respect in the world,” Sir Nicholas starts, eyeing Louis again, “you look pretty harmless but things sure have suddenly taken a turn the moment you came back here.”

Louis frowns, linking his hands behind his back as he nervously plays with the ring. He can feel the familiar burning feeling rising up inside of him but it isn’t overwhelming, rather raging. This knight _infuriates_ him. “Are you insinuating something?”

“Just that it has been obvious how much you mean to the royal family and if the Druids truly are intent on not killing anyone and only taunt Camelot… you are the perfect target to get a reaction out of the Styles.”

“They have no idea I exist.”

“They do—” Sir Nicholas gets interrupted by Sir Grégoire hitting him in the arm. “Hey!”

“That was the thing we were not supposed to tell!” the guard chastises him though keeping his voice relatively low considering Lady Gemma’s chambers being close.

“That be damned I do think the little servant should know if his life is in danger!” And— Louis hates to admit it, but Sir Nicholas has a point here. Though he would have suspected that anyway with the sudden extra protection. He is not oblivious, please.

Louis is about to respond when he notices the way Niall pales though he tries to subtly hide it behind his hand. The servant frowns but quickly shakes his head before the two guards take note of it.

“Can you just let us in?”

“Not joining us at the tavern tonight?” Sir Grégoire asks. "Sir Liam invited you, didn't he?"

“Oh he did and we will, I am just feeling a little exhausted and wanted to rest for a while. Niall and I have been trying to train this new horse all afternoon but he was not really responsive.”

The knights share a look before simply opening the doors and moving out of the way.

Louis bites his lip as he grabs Niall’s arm and ushers them inside, almost letting out a sigh of relief when the heavy door almost immediately closes behind them. These two posted at their door are going to be an issue if he will ever need to go see Rùnwita again. Or he wonders if the dragon would just be alright talking through his head.

“Alright now, why do you look half dead again?” he whispers, looking at Niall who is now pacing in front of the bed. He holds back a snicker at his own joke.

“It’s my fault!”

“Huh?”

“That they know of your existence! They must— ok so perhaps I should have explained to you how a sorcerer and shade link work.”

Louis frowns at that. Perhaps he made a mistake and got blindsided himself by their proximity. “You should have indeed.”

“Our souls are connected and I’m still technically dead,” they both grimace at the reminder, “which means sometimes if you concentrate enough you can— sort of feel and see what I feel and see, see?”

“Honestly, you lost me.”

“We can try later, it really might be useful. But basically, the witch was able to know of your existence because I’ve spent so much time by your side and watching you be so close to the Styles.”

“… Did she… take over your body or something?” Louis asks, recoiling slightly on the bed, the mere thought of being able to do that sending an uncomfortable shiver in his whole body. He knows he joked about it literally some moments ago but the idea of not being the master of your own body is frightening to him for some reason.

“Not… technically. But it was like she was in my head sometimes, I could hear her randomly.” Louis frowns, thinking of Rùnwita then. _The bond you share with him is similar to ours_. “And I thought it was just her speaking to me and if she tried to see through my eyes it would feel different but I guess not.”

“Niall,” the servant speaks up urgently, eyes widening. “Is there a possibility they also know I have magic?”

Niall smiles nervously at that. “That’s the weird part. I think they already knew. Before I even caught you.”

“What?”

“The— the first time we met, after you went away, I heard her in my head and she told me she recognised you. She sounded… delighted, actually? Almost relieved.” Louis remains silent, brows furrowing furthermore at the information. “She begged me to stay close to you while accomplishing my mission which sounded like I wasn’t supposed to, I guess she did not know you would also lead me to the prince and the king, though.”

“That… doesn’t make any sense, I don’t know any witch outside of— well, Aelith. But she can’t—” The witch he saw in the forest was young, probably _younger_ than Louis even so there is no way they know each other. While in Ealdor with Aelith, Louis mostly kept to himself as well and never played with any of the other kids his age in the village, though he liked to watch from a distance and used the excuse that he was simply too shy to play. They were kind of intimidated by him anyway as well, his “title” as the prince’s servant preceding him.

“Look, let us not worry too much about it for now. You are tired and you need some rest, okay?” the shade gently says. Louis wants to protest, really, but then he feels tiredness wash over him. It confuses him for a second before he catches fatigue in the blue of the knight’s eyes. “Come on now, let’s cuddle.”

The sorcerer smiles at that, immediately opening his arms for Niall to fall into. First, the knight removes his armour and then gently grabs Louis around his waist, falling forward on the bed. Louis chuckles, lazily stroking Niall’s hair as the latter seems to fall asleep in an instant as well.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

_Despite living in the castle, whenever Louis struggled to sleep he always sneaked out of the palace and found his way to his father’s house. He was always kind of amazed at how easy it was to bypass the guards surveilling the area or perhaps they knew by now that if a small figure was running around the halls, it wasn’t a ghost or some other creature but just a little boy who was missing his father._

_Oìstin always welcomed him at the door with tired eyes of his own as if he always knew when his son would be there and perhaps he did. Father instinct, Louis guessed._

_“What kind of story do you want to hear tonight?” Oìstin asked as he propped the small boy on the bed with him, smiling as Louis immediately curled up against him, head resting on his chest._

_“The one about the boy and the fairy prince who end up running away together?”_

_Fairytales were odd anomalies within a kingdom deprived of any magic. Louis never understood why those stories that stemmed from a reality outside of the borders of Camelot were still allowed to be told when real magic was forbidden. Why could they dream about it but not practice it? It didn’t make sense to him then, and it still doesn’t now._

_“That was your mother’s favourite.”_

_“Really?”_

_Oìstin hummed. “You’re named after the fairy prince, aren’t you?”_

_“I am!” Louis proudly exclaimed. “I’m not a prince though, nor a fairy. Do fairies exist?”_

_His father bit his tongue, not so sure of the appropriate answer to give. Louis knew sorcerers existed and that dragons used to fly over their heads before he was born. He had no idea yet of the number of magical species living outside the kingdom he only ever heard of through stories his father shared with him._

_“They do,” Oìstin finally said. “Or used to, in Camelot, I guess.”_

_“Oh.”_

_Sensing the sadness from his son, Oìstin quickly added: “They are now hidden in the Brocéliande forest. But Louis you cannot go there alone, the forest is a dangerous place. Fairies are friendly creatures but they are surrounded by… not so friendly ones.”_

_“Won’t you take me?” Louis asked, naively hopeful, “Do you know a fairy?”_

_Oìstin hesitated for a few seconds which Louis did not miss. The small boy was about to point it out but then his father spoke up again, “It is forbidden Louis and I am— still very busy. And no, I— I don’t.” A sigh. “Not anymore.”_

_Louis frowned at the weird phrasing and tried to look up at his father’s expression but Oìstin had his head turned away, facing the other direction, intent on not letting his son know how he truly felt at the moment._

_“Dad…?” Louis called, voice small. Oìstin hummed as the only acknowledgement he heard him. “Did you lose a friend during the purge?”_

_“I lost everything,” his father said, voice full of sorrow. There were no tears in his eyes, however. “Except you.”_

_Louis felt the two arms around him tighten as Oìstin held him closer._

_“I am sorry I cannot be here a lot but you are safer in the castle. I will do anything to protect you, you know that, right my little fairy?”_

_His voice was shaking a little, Louis thought, as he kept silent for a couple of seconds, letting his father squeeze him until he felt calm again. Then, he smiled._

_“I love you ‘pa,” he whispered._

_“I love you too, little one.”_

_“Now can I have my story?”_

_His father’s laughter echoed through the tiny house, making Louis smile more, eyes already closing. He did not really need the story, just his father’s presence._

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

They end up sleeping through the night. Louis wakes up before Niall when the first rays of sunshine hit his face, a little disoriented by the added weight on him, preventing him from moving properly. Niall is kind of drooling all over him, really, the saliva forming a disgusting stain on the fabric of his shirt. He groans, aware he should promptly get up and get changed in order to start the day but as he is about to shake Niall awake, the door suddenly opens, hitting the wall and startling the knight awake anyway who almost falls off the bed.

“Louis this is— what in the name of God is happening here?” Louis blinks, not quite registering the fact that Harry is standing there, already all dressed somehow even though Louis is supposed to help him every morning, and sending daggers through his eyes in Niall’s direction. Vaguely, the servant can also see Sir Nicholas and Sir Grégoire struggling to not turn around, fidgeting a little where they stand and clearly listening in. Harry seems to notice as well and promptly closes the door behind him with his foot.

“What is it…” Niall groans as he rolls over as to not crush Louis anymore, noticing Harry as he does so. “Oh. Good morning Prince Harry.”

“We were just sleeping my prince, it is rather early,” Louis says as he looks at the window noticing that the moon is still visible despite the early bursts of sunshine. “What is the urgency?”

Harry is still frowning at Niall who seems completely unbothered as he gets up from the bed and starts putting his armour back on. Louis slowly hops off as well, eyes staying on the prince and wondering why he seems so disgruntled as he quickly grabs a new shirt from the dresser and quickly changes while everyone else is distracted.

“You did not tell me you were lovers,” the prince finally grumbles, prompting Niall to let out a laugh. Not a joyful one, though, Louis notices.

“You forbid Sir Nicholas to touch him, not me,” Niall replies with a sly smile.

“Is that a suggestion, then,” Harry challenges with a slight eyebrow raise.

“My person is not worth a sudden new kingdom rule my prince, please do not meddle with my personal life,” Louis intervenes at last, “and Niall, stop that.”

“What?” the latter whines. “Everyone thinks we are lovers at this point and it is fun to mess with him look at his face!”

“I really think you tend to forget you are not a knight and you are under no protection,” the servant points out.

“Yes I am, under yours.”

“Louis your father has been arrested.”

The whole room falls silent instantly, Niall even dropping the sword he was just putting in his scabbard immediately, the metal rattling against the floor.

“What?!” Louis exclaims at last, completely forgetting proper etiquette. “You couldn’t have started with that?!”

The servant is about to bolt out of the room but Harry catches him when he passes next to him, grabbing him firmly by the shoulders and halting his movements. Louis wants to protest but then he takes a look at Harry’s solemn face, green eyes veiled by a layer of fear and uncertainty.

“It will be okay, I promise,” the prince says, although Louis would argue he sounds doubtful himself. “I— there must have been a misunderstanding somewhere for I know Oìstin would never betray us.”

Louis tries to keep his face neutral because— he knows his father, actually, and he would, _fuck_ he would. Especially after the last discussion they had where no trace of sympathy or friendship towards the King transpired in his voice.

In fact, really thinking about it, Louis can’t remember any instance in which he saw the King and his father share a genuine friendly moment. He hardly saw them in the same room, really.

“Why? What proof do they have?” he asks, voice small.

“They believe he collaborated with a druid to create a powerful weapon. They caught a druid leaving his house this morning but she escaped quickly. They have searched his house and found nothing as of now but suspicions are often enough to—”

“Don’t say it,” Louis interrupts as he shakes his head, “please.”

Harry nods silently while Niall approaches them, putting a tentative hand on Louis’ shoulder as support, despite the frown back on the prince’s face as he does so.

“The druid, what did she look like? Did you see her?” Niall asks.

“Short with long blond hair,” the prince answers easily. He grimaces as he pronounces the next words, “She burned some of the knights’ faces but she apparently didn’t mean to and yelled ‘sorry’ as she ran away. Some think she sounded smug instead.”

Louis and Niall share a look — it is most likely the same witch then.

_Charlotte._

Louis startles upon hearing Niall’s voice so clearly next to him without the latter even moving his lips. He frowns as Niall suddenly walks away, going to pick up his sword as if nothing even happened.

 **How did you do that?!** Louis asks.

_No need to yell, I hear you loud and clear. Told you, we’re completely soul-bonded now._

**Who’s Charlotte?**

_The witch’s name. Just remembered I didn’t tell you._

**You don’t have her full name?**

_No. I don’t think Druids use last names, they are like a huge family if that makes sense._

**Does that mean they marry each other?**

_Listen I don’t know all the ins and outs of their culture. I just know she had—_

Harry snaps his fingers in front of Louis, momentarily interrupting the inner discussion he was having with the Mercian who is now leaning against the dresser, waiting.

“Alright?” the prince asks, concern written all over his face. “Your eyes—”

Louis lets out a small gasp, trying to push Harry away with a hand but the prince grabs it, probably in an attempt to soothe him.

“Looked distant,” Harry finishes his sentence, obviously confused by the sudden panic he can see on the servant’s face. Louis lets out a weak chuckle, for a second afraid his eyes turned gold — that means communicating with Niall does not require any magical energy.

_Rude._

**Get out of my head I thought only the sorcerer could communicate with the shade first?!**

_Well, I guess our bond is stronger, I don’t know Louis._

Louis shakes his head as if to physically get Niall out of his mind, making the shade snicker under his breath. “Can I go see my father?” he asks Harry instead.

Harry doesn’t reply right away, his confused eyes going from Louis to Niall with a hint of anger in there for a couple of seconds before he seems to register his servant’s question.

“Only if I go with you. Niall might be stopped by the guards,” the prince says at last. Louis is not sure if that is true or something he just made up to get rid of the almost knight.

Niall snorts, a challenging smile back on his lips. “I’m coming whether you want it or not.”

Louis sighs though, deep down, he is quite grateful for the light-hearted distraction.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Louis has walked through the dungeon a couple of times already since he’s come back — though they were mostly to go see Rùnwita and he did not try to look around and be familiarised again with such a morbid place where he knows hundreds awaited their deaths. It was empty every single time he went down there.

Almost every cell has someone sitting there now, waiting, head low or back turned to them, with very little hope of getting out in mind considering Camelot’s history of executions. Louis feels heavy as their footsteps on the wet rocky floor somehow sound louder and louder as they approach the cell where he knows his father is waiting for his own sentence.

 _Do you think he might be actually guilty?_ Niall’s voice rings suddenly in his head again.

Louis slows down his pace as he lets Niall, who has been walking behind him and Harry now, catch up to him. The prince doesn’t seem to notice, continuing the discussion he was having with the guard escorting them.

 **Yes**.

_Wow, that confident?_

**I think the fact I ended up having magic might have pushed him to do something and fix what he did twenty years ago.**

_He didn’t want to lose you like he lost your mother I am assuming._

**What’s the fucking point if _I_ end up losing _him_ anyway?**

Niall doesn’t reply but because they both get distracted when the guard and Harry suddenly stop walking and they nearly bump into them. Louis is about to ask what is the matter when he finally catches sight of his father behind those awful metal bars. He gasps, letting out a small “dad!” as he immediately rushes towards him, uncaring of the potential offence this might have been. Oìstin is already waiting for him, facing the bars with an odd serene smile on his lips. Like he knew already what would be awaiting him and it only reinforces Louis’ belief that he is indeed guilty… and willing to potentially leave Louis behind.

“I’ll get you out of here,” is the first thing Louis says, voice filled with anger.

“Louis…” his father begins softly. “There is… really little you can do to help me.”

“So you’re just gonna give up? _Again_?” Oìstin winces at his words. _Good_ , Louis thinks, squashing down the feeling of guilt bubbling up in his stomach. “I just came back you can’t— I can’t let you leave me like that!”

“Believe me that isn’t how I planned things to go.”

Louis blinks, quickly looking around, noticing in a surprising turn of events that the prince, Niall, and the guard are at a safe enough distance that they would not be able to hear them, or at least very clearly. The shade wears a frown on his face however and Louis figures he must be able to hear their conversation through their bond.

“Did you just admit guilt?”

“Even if I don’t I will burn at the stake anyway,” Oìstin deflects and they both wince at the idea.

“You are innocent until you are proven guilty,” Louis reminds him, “so keep your mouth shut until I find a way to get you out.”

The old man lets out a genuine laugh at his son’s threat and Louis has to stop himself from smiling as well because he is _serious_.

“It would not be fair, Louis, you know that.”

“It isn’t fair for everyone else here and all the people who already died because of the lack of trials either. The only difference is that you have someone to vouch for you.”

“It is going to endanger yourself which is the last thing I want right now,” the blacksmith responds, tone serious and sombre as well now.

“I have at least a week! You _have_ to let me try.”

“I don’t really have a choice, do I,” Oìstin points out as he takes a quick look around his piteous cell.

“No,” Louis quips. His father sighs deeply and he huffs at the exasperated look sent his way a second later. “I’m stubborn.”

“Yes, I know, you get that from me.”

Only then does the servant allow himself to smile and relax, if only for a little while.

“Do not talk like this is a goodbye, dad,” he whispers, at last, hands clutching the bars, turning his knuckles white.

Oìstin sends him a look full of sorrow and pity as he gently rests a hand on one of Louis’. It’s cold, Louis notices. Cold and calloused. “Denying the inevitable will only break you further.”

“How can you— How are you so calm?”

Guilt quickly takes over his father’s voice as his fingers subtly graze the ring on Louis’ finger. Louis frowns, following the movement with his eyes and trying to remain silent, waiting for a response.

“I can’t tell you everything but just know this is all for the better good.”

Louis shakes his head, disbelief taking over him again at the calm and almost patronising tone he is getting from his father. “You dying on me?!”

“No— At least not— so soon,” Oìstin stutters out, a weak laugh following as he briefly sends a look behind Louis. Towards Harry, the servant guesses, confusing him furthermore because— what does the prince have to do with this anyway? “But in the grand schemes of things, this incident might change some perspectives.”

The blacksmith’s gaze remains lost behind Louis as if insisting that he should turn around as well, and so Louis does, meeting, to his surprise, anger, and sorrow in the green of Harry’s eyes. His heart skips a beat and he gulps as he quickly turns around again to face his father who is now smiling softly again.

“I still don’t get it,” Louis admits with a defeated sigh. “Why was the witch…”

“Telling you with witnesses around would incriminate you,” Oìstin interrupts him, “we cannot risk that.”

“But—”

“Son,” his father interrupts him again, “discover it for yourself. You will need to go back to your mother’s cottage. There you will find something useful, particularly for the prince.”

Louis perks up at that. The cottage is situated at the outskirts of the kingdom, almost in the middle of an empty prairie. That is where, as he has been told, his mother lived before she met his father and they moved closer to town for Oìstin’s work as a blacksmith.

“Will I really spend the rest of my days following someone’s directives?” Louis mumbles to himself.

“I don’t believe so,” Oìstin says, startling him. Carefully, the old man manages to grab Louis’ face in his hands through the bars. Louis immediately holds back tears at the gentleness and familiarity of the gesture despite how little he got to experience it through the years. “Never underestimate yourself, my son. Other than your _gift—_ ” Louis tries not to frown. His magic still does not quite feel like a gift. “You have the capacity of connecting with people in ways so many others cannot and I know you get that from me as well.” A side-smile. Louis reciprocates it weakly. “Your compassion and determination is all from your mother, if only you knew how similar you are.”

A pause. Oìstin sighs as he lets go and shakes his head while closing his eyes.

“I am sorry I could not be as much a part of your life as I wanted to,” he continues, a sad smile now on his lips. “I am a firm believer that things happen for a reason. It will get better. This kingdom can be fixed even if I failed to do my part.”

Louis doesn’t respond — mostly at a loss of words because of the _kingdom_? He could not care less at the moment! He has already lost respect for Stephen and now he is supposed to just accept the fact that he is going to lose his biological father? _Absolutely not_. He doesn’t get to voice all of it once it has properly sunken in because he suddenly feels a hand on his shoulder, startling him.

“You have been talking for too long,” the guard’s voice is loud and stern, making Louis freeze. Obviously, gentleness is not taught to knights so the man ends up shoving Louis backwards when trying to pull him away from Oìstin’s cell and almost making him fall if it wasn’t for Niall suddenly darting forward and catching him before his back met the floor.

“Be careful!” Louis registers both his father and Harry yell at the same time before he sees the prince in front of him just as Niall helps him get balanced on his feet again.

“Let us get out of here, we need to talk now,” the prince declares.

The servant numbly nods, sending a last look at his father who still wears an encouraging and proud look on his face, arms crossed nonchalantly in front of him as if there were no worries in the world before the guard ushers the three of them out, other villagers coming in to visit their own relatives captive here.

Louis purposely keeps his eyes low as they make their way out and takes a deep breath once his face meets the cold wind of the winters. Never before he would have thought he would even enjoy such chilly weather.

The irony of the next executions most likely being burned alive is not lost on him. He shivers at the idea, heart throbbing.

_Louis, look up._

The sorcerer startles again — he really should be used to it by now — upon hearing Niall’s voice and does look up only to see Harry pacing back and forth before him. With a quick look around, Louis notices that people are looking. They are concerned — but mostly scared upon seeing the prince in such a distressed state.

**Should I…?**

_Most likely._

**I feel like I should be the one panicking like he is.**

_I think he’s blaming himself._

**Oh.**

It would— It would make sense if Harry was present when they spotted the witch near Oìstin’s house. Louis suddenly is not sure what he is supposed to feel. This isn’t the prince’s fault per se… but…

He sighs, shaking his head. Carefully, he approaches Harry who slows down his pace as well, as if noticing Louis’ presence there.

“My prince—”

“I will do what I can to save him,” Harry says suddenly as he stops his pacing completely to face the servant, a new kind of fire suddenly burning in his eyes and making Louis’ insides churn under the intensity of his gaze, “I promise, Louis.”

“I cannot ask you to do that, my prince, it would be clear favouritism and the people might turn against you. We cannot have that as the future heir,” Louis refuses, shaking his head in a hushed tone as he looks around at the prying eyes and ears. “I can do this alone, I will clear his name.”

“Louis…”

“I can do this,” Louis repeats, staring up into Harry’s green eyes, hoping his determination can be read on his face although doubts and fears plague his mind.

The prince looks unsure as well as he grabs Louis’ hands, holding them close to his own racing heart. Louis blinks up at him, tears welling up in his eyes as he hears, “Let me help. This is an order.”

And well, a servant is meant to obey whatever desire their master requests from them.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Gemma never understood her father and today is just another example of that.

“You cannot possibly think of executing him,” she says lowly, frown deepening as her father remains silent, eyes focused on the map in front of him. The princess huffs, sparing a glance towards Stephen as well who stands by the King’s side, expression blank and somehow looking lost. She can feel Harry fidgeting, full of frustration, by her side and that might be the first time she has seen him be affected in some kind of way by a possible execution.

“He is your best blacksmith and a long-time friend of the royal family, if you kill him I will never forgive you,” she presses, watching her father’s eyebrows twitch ever so slightly, _annoyance_ rather than _hesitation_ slowly rising inside of him with the way his muscles tense, “you will not only lose the driven force of your army because of your own bigotry, but you will lose a daughter.”

Their eyes meet, the dark greens of the King scrutinising his daughter as if to evaluate whether she was only throwing empty threats or if she was serious. Gemma does not falter, glaring right back though in her head she wondered how her words could impact the impending decision when her whole existence she has been cast aside, her views overlooked despite having been given the same education as her brother, minus the intense training.

“Father,” Harry speaks up, startling her, “I thought you owed Oìstin a favour.”

“That favour was taking Louis in.”

“But then you sent him away and had someone else look after him.”

“Because he started to be a distraction for you, I agreed to take care of him as much as I could but the well-being and education of my heir were more important,” Desmond argues back. “I do not owe this treacherous man anything.”

“So his loyalty for over thirty years means nothing?” Gemma asks, shooting a glare Stephen’s way who has been particularly silent. “One suspicion and you are willing to kill him on the spot because of your blind hatred for magic?”

“And do you expect me to do nothing? To spare one life amongst the many currently in the dungeon? If I make an exception, it is the whole royal family’s credibility that shatters.”

“Our people are afraid, poor, starving, and angry, our credibility has been dead for a long while,” Gemma presses on, leaning over the table now.

“This conversation is over, you two are dismissed,” the King states, eyes cold and stature rigid.

She huffs, looking at Stephen again who has been eerily quiet the whole time. “I expected better from you,” she addresses him. The physician finally shows a sign of emotion, frowning as he turns ever so slightly his body to look at the princess with the corner of his squinted eyes. “He’ll know that you could have done something to save his father and that you did nothing.”

“Louis will have to learn that actions have consequences,” Stephen replies, low and careful. “Unfortunately from people around him.”

“Or a lack of action, rather,” Gemma corrects with a slight smile as the old man and the King visibly stiffen. “I am sure he would be pleased to know you two also had a part in his mother’s disappearance.”

“Gemma, that is enough!” the King yells now and though Harry flinches, Gemma stands her ground as she nonchalantly crosses her arms. “A servant’s feeling is nothing compared to the fate of a whole kingdom.”

“And yet you're keeping him protected after we've learned the Druids are after him?” Harry points out, clear confusion in his voice.

“His feelings do not matter however, he is useful to me,” the King declares solemnly. “No more questions, you are dismissed.”

“You will lose a daughter, Desmond, and you will lose a son, Stephen,” she repeats with determination as she finally turns around, heels echoing around the empty room. Soon, she hears Harry following her, paces slow and unhurried as well though she can tell he is truly agitated inside.

They walk in silence for a couple of minutes before they both stop at the familiar stained window in the middle of the main hall. A few servants walk past them, avoiding their gazes but overall the castle is empty — like it has been for a few years now. Empty and cold, devoid of any substance of happiness, Gemma muses.

“What do you know about Louis’ mother?” Harry asks, at last, finally breaking the silence. She doesn’t startle and only leans against the window. “How do you happen to know so much?”

“You do tend to forget I am a lot older than you and I do talk to our people since neither you nor Father bothers to do so,” she says with a bitter edge to her voice. “Stephen used to practice magic.”

The prince’s eyes widen. “He did?! How is he—”

“Because as you can see, Father _can_ make an exception, and he has stopped altogether so many people are unaware of it.”

“So… Stephen… helped—”

“To locate other sorcerers when The Purge began? I have no doubt,” Gemma says. “A traitor of his own kind, I should not be surprised he is not doing anything to help Oìstin, or well, Louis, really, too.”

“I knew there was a reason I did not like him and not just because he is old,” the prince declares.

That makes Gemma ungracefully snort, cheeks reddening a little as she realises what sound she just let out and looks around to make sure no one caught the Lady of the castle in such a vulgar state. Her brother sports a smile of his own as well.

Familiar. This feels familiar.

“And Louis’ mother?”

“I am uncertain, but from what I know, she was taken away by sorcerers who pretended to be guards while she was picking up vegetables. They could have found her again, or tried to, Oìstin supposedly begged them to do something since he had a newly born Louis with him. They refused but accepted to take Louis in. That wasn’t the reason Desmond owed him a favour, though technically he owes him two I guess.”

“What was it then?” Harry follows up.

She shrugs though she smiles a little at the curious and innocent tone her brother is suddenly adopting. She hadn’t heard it in a while, having grown used to his arrogant act. “I believe it has to do with Mother.”

“What?”

“Oìstin and mother knew each other from childhood,” she explains. “Perhaps that is why I hold on to Louis so much as well…”

“Wait, Mother was not royalty?”

“No,” the princess chuckles softly at her brother’s astonished look. She had forgotten he was told close to nothing about his own family. The memory of her death too painful for Desmond and the kingdom alike. It is a shame, she thinks, talking about her makes her live on in memories instead of serving as the reason for the beginning of a terrible war. “She was a servant. Reminds me of another situation, doesn’t it?” She smiles at her brother’s confused expression. “I heard Oìstin is the reason they could even marry. Motivated Father to go against Grandfather and the rest is history.”

“But…” Harry starts, “Father banished every single person who was remotely linked to Mother… apart from us. Even Aelith…”

“Meaning Oìstin is the only reminder of her he has and if his act of treason is true, Father would probably see it as an act of treason towards Mother as well, which makes it worse considering they were once close.”

“ _Making peace with magic is disrespecting the Queen_ …” the prince repeats in a monotone voice, a sentence he has heard being pronounced so many times as he grew up but words that sounded so empty and like a vague excuse now.

Gemma doesn’t say anything for a few more instants as she watches out through the coloured window. The court is lively on this day, people walking around, children playing, carriages coming and going.

It is such a lively place. But the princess could also see people preparing for the next wave of executions on the side.

“Do you still think they are evil?” she asks. “People with magic.”

The deafening silence that follows instead of the usual quick and angry “yes” is enough of an answer for her.

This is a conversation they should have had ages ago, Gemma realises as she watches Harry walk away a couple of minutes later, his whole demeanour changed, standing upright and a determined look in his eyes rather than indifference and boredom. Perhaps that is the true reason she also was sent away in the first couple of years following Harry’s birth, as to not influence him. Desmond does have a tendency to do that, she muses. And then Louis served as a distraction for Harry and when the little boy wasn’t enough anymore, training and lessons fell onto the prince’s shoulders. Time with her brother used to feel like a luxury.

Unfortunately for Desmond, and ironically enough, he miscalculated how much a simple servant could change things.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there won't be any nouis but interpret Niall's feelings as you wish. I'm just saying that everyone in the show was in love with Merlin the same way the 1D boys all 100% had a crush on Louis at some point and you can't change my mind >:)
> 
> Btw in literature shade is a term also used to refer to ghost :') niall hasn't shared the whole truth about his nature either though... mm what was his past?
> 
> Anyway, next chapter, direction Louis' mother's cottage so a little break from the castle ~ I wonder what's awaiting them here. I think if you've seen the show you could take a guess c: (yes Oìstin is based off Gwen's dad!) won't tell you if that guess is right though ~


	5. Everlasting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis' mother's old cottage brings more surprises than expected and one unexpected encounter makes Harry understand that he finally needs to act, no matter what his Father forbids him to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What can I say that I haven't already said these past two weeks? Ah, uni, a delight. My brother is now on his winter break but I still have one week of classes before I can relax/concentrate on writing instead :') so there will be another chapter next week but after that I might slow down the updates (one every two weeks instead then) until I catch up with my writing schedule ~ will try to not let you all hanging on a cliffhanger though :o keyword: try, heheh.
> 
> Also it's been a month since I started posting this fic aaaah it feels so much shorter honestly!
> 
> I completely forgot last week (shame on me!) but a big thank you to [Lou](https://twitter.com/lwtwinters) for beta-ing for me and go give her some love too!!
> 
> [Tumblr Post](https://lwtisloved.tumblr.com/post/640491465750003712/truth-behind-golden-eyes-by-myenglishrose-a) ¦¦ [Twitter Post](https://twitter.com/darlinlou/status/1350504077084520450?s=20)  
> Good reading x

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_The first time Louis saw his mother’s cottage was shortly after the war properly ended. The King had allowed Oìstin a week away to rest and the blacksmith took his son with him. Then the prince had decided he wanted to come with as well. The journey there was short and sweet with a carriage, his father managing to fall asleep despite the various bumps they went through. Roads all around Camelot had been destroyed amongst the many battles, leaving behind trails of dirt and rocks but it amused the two little boys who were seeing for the first time a world outside of the walls of the castle._

_The cottage stood tall and lonely in an empty green field. It almost felt like a dream — how untouched it looked, just standing there. Of course, the wood looked worn out and old but overall, this place seemed lost in time, having miraculously survived dragons burning the kingdom’s crops and soldiers destroying villages in hopes of finding sorcerers in hiding._

_“Why can’t we stay and live here?” Louis asked as they settled in the quaint, empty, little house. A few knights were there and would stay there to protect them just in case, helping to bring their belongings._

_His father chuckled but Harry was first to reply, a loud gasp escaping his lips, “You want to leave me?! I refuse!”_

_“That is not what I meant!” Louis whined, pouting as the prince crossed his arms and huffed in full offence. “This place is so pretty!”_

_“Do you not like the luxury of the castle?” Oìstin asked, amused._

_“No,” Louis bluntly answered._

_Harry gasped again. “You should be grateful!” the little prince said, making the servant frown at the tone._

_“But I never asked to be there…” he mumbled in response. “I do not like the castle but I like that I met you there, you could live with us here!”_

_“I cannot, though…” Harry replied, frowning now. “I’m the prince.”_

_This probably was the first time the two boys had to face the fact that they lived very different lives despite sharing it and that their points of views did not always align with each other—_

_“Prince Harry is right, Louis, he is the prince and cannot leave the castle permanently. As for you and I, we both pledged loyalty to the crown, we will have to go back despite how much I would love to take back your mother’s once luxurious crops.”_

_— and that ultimately, Louis’ life would always revolve around and depend on Harry._

_Nevertheless, despite the tense first day, the rest of their stay was enjoyable and Louis and Harry spent most of it playing in the field, running after each other._

_Louis wondered a lot, at night, as he looked at the way the moon shone above the endless field behind the cottage if his parents used this place to escape as well when they were younger. Did they meet here? Did his father court his mother in between those flowers and the birds singing in the distance?_

_Was it here that they fell in love?_

_Louis wanted to feel that, one day._

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Sir Nicholas and Sir Grégoire join them when they leave for Louis’ mother’s cottage early the next day. It was not exactly what Louis had wanted but Harry insisted they needed the additional protection in case something went wrong. Louis could not exactly protest — he is only but a servant after all — he was already considering himself lucky that the King even allowed them to make the journey before pronouncing the prisoners’ sentences though he did so with an amused, almost challenging look in his eyes.

The main issue really is that the more people are around him, the more dangerous it would be for him to use his magic if they do get attacked. He has improved a lot in his combat skills, he even has a crossbow over his shoulder, there to be used along with his dagger still hidden under his clothes but he still excels in magic. Deep down, he knows he could reason with Liam but he does not know the other two knights and if he slips up, he will definitely join his father at the stake.

Now, he sure would have preferred to not have to share his horse with anyone either, he thinks, as he glares at Sir Grégoire’s back. Niall is sharing with Sir Nicholas as well while Liam and Harry have their own. Something about not being a knight and not owning a horse when the King had no issue providing him and Niall with one when he was guiding the knights through the forest during hunts. It was quite clear then that the King didn’t deem it necessary to provide them with the resources needed for the trip as he did not expect much to come out of it.

When the cottage finally comes into view, Louis almost jumps off the horse while it was still galloping. Grégoire probably could feel how antsy he is, bouncing his leg and arms tightening around his middle. Fortunately, the knight is polite enough to not make any comment but he does lean back while puffing his chest, probably to reassure Louis and silently tell him he could protect him and it is a nice thought but Louis cannot help but roll his eyes a little.

Knights are so full of themselves. Niall included. Liam excluded.

 _You do realise I can hear you, right?_ Niall’s voice huffs in his head.

**Are you just so obsessed with me that you need to be in my head every second of the day?**

_Yes._

Well, alright, he did not expect him to be this blunt. Louis sighs as he looks behind him, only to see Niall excitedly wave at him from behind Sir Nicholas who looks bored out of his mind until he notices the servant looking in his direction and smiles slyly. Again, Louis has no time for that and simply vaguely waves back in their general direction before turning around again just as he hears Harry say “Louis, come here”.

Only then does he realise that the prince and Liam have jumped off their respective horses. Louis is about to do the same but Sir Grégoire catches his forearm before he can do so.

“Hold on, careful,” the knight sighs as he completely stops the horse and gets off the animal first, still keeping a firm hand on the servant’s arm. Then he simply extends his other hand as Louis carefully brings his left leg to the right side with a perplexed look on his face. He still ends up taking the knight’s hand as he helps him down.

“That really was not necessary, Sir Grégoire, you’ve seen me ride a horse before,” Louis says when the knight just purely beams at him.

“You can never be too careful,” Sir Grégoire answers sincerely. He seems genuine but Louis is not too used to knights other than Liam treating him so kindly. “Now I believe the prince requires your presence.”

Ah, right.

Louis tunes out the commotion behind him — most likely Niall and Sir Nicholas arguing — and runs up to the prince and Liam. The cottage is literally a few metres away now and Louis has to restrain himself from just up and running to it instead of stopping by Harry’s side first.

“It looks unchanged,” the prince comments as soon as Louis is within earshot. “Actually, it even looks in a better condition than I remember.”

“You have been here before?” Liam asks as he blindly grabs Louis by the arm once the latter is close enough, keeping him close. The servant yelps but does not protest — not that he can, really — but he does wonder why his arm seems to be the part of his body that all knights have decided to hold on to him.

“Oìstin took us here every once in a while to get away from the castle,” Harry answers, eyeing the way Liam holds Louis close briefly before smiling which surprises Louis for a second, “that was before you came into our lives and before I was drowning in lessons. Louis, have you been here since then?”

“Not really,” the servant replies, “but where I stayed with Aelith in Ealdor was similar. Smaller, obviously, and not isolated but Aelith has a whole plantation behind her house and her gardens in the front are gorgeous! There was a pond with a few fishes and ducklings too and I liked to sit there and watch them. I was not allowed to feed them, however—” He stops as he blushes upon realising he has been rambling while Harry and Liam are simply looking at him. “I- sorry.”

“Don’t apologise!” Liam laughs softly, “We haven’t— we haven’t really had the opportunity to catch up, have we?” Louis blinks upon realising that— that this is the truth. Between the hunts and his duties as Harry’s servant — and occasionally Gemma’s — and then the whole discovering Niall is a Shade originally sent to spy on them, Louis barely had time to reconnect with Liam properly. “You seem to have lived such a different life away from Camelot.”

“A peaceful one, at that,” Harry comments with slight envy in his voice.

“Mercia is… really different. Brighter in a lot of ways. But… although Aelith grew to become a mother figure, she could not quite replace my father, Stephen, you two and Lady Gemma.”

“And yet you never asked to come back? You were a letter away, you could have just asked. It was only supposed to be a few weeks Louis, you had _promised_ ,” the prince points out as he stops walking, effectively stopping the whole group as well. Louis stiffens when he feels even Liam freeze beside him at the sudden bitterness mixed with sadness in Harry’s voice. The servant doesn’t dare to look behind him to see the others’ reactions but he can feel within his soul Niall’s utter surprise — and defensiveness, ready to jump in.

“You just sound— like you were happier there and that coming back is a burden,” he continues and Louis winces.

Because, well, it kinda is. No, scratch that, it _literally_ is. Things have changed since he was a twelve-year-old— first of all, he has magic, second of all, he somehow has to free the last living dragon on this fucking land, third he also has to be another pawn in the King’s game, fourthly, he has another soul attached to him now somehow and he is still a little freaked out by that fact, fifthly, his father is about to die and he has no idea where his mother is and he still cannot figure out which spell can unlock the message hidden in his ring, sixthly— the Druids are apparently after him and know of his existence and the fact he has magic and it feels like a dead-end. That is a _lot_. Except he cannot say that. Not to the prince when a part of Louis is still afraid that the latter would simply turn his back on him as easily as he turned a blind eye to probably hundreds of executions over the years.

“No one would willingly choose to be a low servant, My Prince,” is what Louis ends up saying, feeling the way Liam’s grip on him tightens. He is not sure why. “I was a normal child growing up with Aelith and far from Camelot,” _as normal as one who learns he has magic when he has been told growing up that magic was the root of evil anyway._ “But I promise you I missed you. I wrote to you so much! I— I couldn’t have known the King didn’t send them through.”

“First Gemma, then you, it felt like everyone had a shot at a normal childhood away from Camelot or away from the war except me,” Harry sighs. “You did not deny it, though.”

“What?”

“That you were happier there.”

Louis lowers his head and does not answer. It would not be fair, he guesses, to admit he was indeed happier away from the duties that linked him to the royal family. He knows Harry hasn’t had the easiest life either, having on his shoulders the burden of being the heir who will inherit a broken kingdom who will have to find a way to fix what his father has damaged — and continues to damage as long as he reigns. An heir who yet still has to prove himself to his father.

The lack of answer seems to be enough for Harry who sighs, straightening his back and now throwing a look towards Sir Nicholas and Sir Grégoire.

“You two and Liam, stay outside and guard the horizons, in case the Druids somehow heard of our arrival. Louis, Niall, and I will inspect the inside. If you see anything, use our signal.”

Louis frowns, a little surprised Harry would rather have Niall with them than Liam. He doesn’t get to ponder over it for long because suddenly, Harry is walking quickly forward towards the cottage, not before grabbing his wrist without any warning. Soon enough, Niall is by their side as well, sending a confused look the sorcerer’s way who only shrugs.

_That whole exchange… was odd._

Louis makes a grimace. **We already… talked about my extended leave and the missing letters. I just— why bring it up again?**

Niall’s lips stretch into a small, empathic smile. _He clearly cares about you. Perhaps too much. Or he would not be here trying to prove your father’s innocence nor would he be so upset over this if you’ve already talked about it._

**Doesn’t excuse his behaviour or the way he talks to me at times!**

_I know. I’m just saying it is understandable._

Niall sort of taking Harry’s side is definitely something Louis did not expect.

_You make people crazy Louis, I have no idea if it’s just you or a part of your magic but— you must have noticed how anyone you encounter feels the need to be close to you. Prince Harry is an extreme example._

The sorcerer frowns. Isn’t that what his father said as well? He can connect with people in ways few can — that he takes that from him. There must be something else about him if Niall’s observations are true. He brings his right hand closer to his face, eyeing the shiny ring on there, taunting him. He feels like it is supposed to be a hint.

**Do you know anything about any species that possesses that capacity?**

This walk towards the house is surprisingly long. Louis hadn’t realised they had still such a distance separating them from it.

 _Entertaining the idea you might not be completely human?_ Niall’s voice sounds amused, albeit interested.

**If it can be a clue to unlock my mother’s message and find her…**

_I only know a few dark spells here and there I heard Charlotte pronounce. Your dragon must know more about magical creatures, you should go ask him._

He should, he really should, Louis realises. He doesn’t know how he hasn’t thought about it before but, to be fair, when he asked Rùnwita about what a Shade is, he refused to answer directly.

He does not get to continue this conversation because the light suddenly dims as they enter the cottage and even Harry stops dead on his tracks, a gasp escaping his lips at the sight before them.

The house is as untouched as the exterior. It doesn’t appear that anyone has lived there in a few years — or that anyone has visited recently. It is empty, _completely_ empty with no furniture left. However, in the middle of the room, lay a sword and a letter.

The prince is the first to move, grabbing the letter while Louis goes for the sword instead while Niall keeps a certain distance as he looks around, rather taken aback by the pure emptiness surrounding them. The servant mutters under his breath a protective spell — _bebiergaþ_ — while the prince is distracted before grabbing the sword, in case the object was cursed in some way. As soon as his palm meets the handle, a shiver runs through his whole body and he feels energy coursing through his arm.

“Louis,” Harry says suddenly close to him, making him startle and drop the sword immediately, “the letter… is for you but I cannot read the language. It is signed with the name Charlotte, however.”

“If you cannot I doubt I can too,” he replies with a frown. The prince shrugs and hands him the letter then and watches him unfold the old paper.

And then he actually recognises the language and writing and tries to keep his surprise inside. “I have no idea what that is,” he lies as he shakes his head at Harry’s expectant face. “I will ask Stephen.”

The prince seems to accept this answer and redirects his attention to the sword while Louis slips the paper in his sack as his eyes catch Niall’s.

**Can you read the Old Religion’s language?**

Niall blinks. _Some of them._

**Great. The letter is written in it and I fear it might be a dark spell of some sort related to the sword.**

He sees the way the knight bites his lips in order to hold back a gasp. Louis sighs as he turns around again to see Harry trying to manoeuvre the weapon in question before he stops all movement and takes out his own sword, comparing them— presenting them to Louis.

The servant startles, having forgotten that, yes, he is the son of the blacksmith, he is the one with the most knowledge about the art of creating swords… And it pains him to admit that with just a simple look he can easily recognise his father’s touch and skills. The two swords are similar in length and width, but the one they found looks whiter and heavier somehow as if the material was different from the regular steel and enhanced… enhanced with magic.

The sword is enchanted as well, that much is obvious with the subtle glow the white metal is emanating as Louis quietly takes it from Harry’s hand, the light dimming when Niall or Harry approaches again — not that they seem to notice so perhaps he is the only one who can actually see the magic held in the blade and he is not going to comment on it. He frowns as he inspects the craftsmanship of the blade and the handle in which the name “Excalibur” was engraved while the Styles’ royal crest is embedded at the base of the blade. His father is an experienced blacksmith and it usually only takes him about a week or two to make a sword. If it were recent, the blade would still be shiny new but Louis could see marks all over the metal, meaning it has been used before — experimented on, perhaps. If he had to guess, the weapon would have to be a few months old already meaning Oìstin has been in contact with that witch before Louis even came back to Camelot.

“The sword is old,” he says, voice low and pained. “Who knows what magical capability it holds but that means my father was helping the druids for a while, he was probably providing them here.”

_Be aware of the friendly faces for they may be the most deceiving._

“He… must have had a motive?” Niall suggests, sounding so unsure his words fall flat under the tense atmosphere.

“He must,” Louis agrees as he bites his lips. He must know the witch for her to visit him at his house when the sword wasn’t even there! And… and for her to write _him_ something. “It will not save him.”

“Louis…” Harry begins, without ever finishing his sentence because then the prince simply reaches forward, taking the sword from Louis’ hand and handing it to Niall before carefully wrapping his arms around the smaller boy, slouching slightly to fit his head perfectly against Louis’ neck.

Louis holds his breath for a moment, pure confusion overflowing his mind. He doesn’t dare to look at Harry’s face and discover which expression resides there and sends a panicked look Niall’s way who smiles softly.

 _Let it go_. The Mercian tells him, voice loud, clear, and encouraging in his head.

And it is enough for Louis to melt in the prince’s arms as he quickly hides his face in Harry’s neck as well, tears falling ungracefully down his cheeks. He feels Harry tighten the embrace.

He vaguely notices Niall walk out the door before exhaustion causes him to simply collapse against Harry.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Harry gently lays the servant down on the makeshift mattress made of his and Niall’s cloaks. He sighs as he looks upon Louis’ pale and tired face, bags under his eyes prominent and enhanced by his frail stature. He lets his hand rest on Louis’ cheek maybe for a second too long before he finally gets up. He stands there for a while, awkwardly looking down at Louis with a twinge of guilt and fear in his heart, not really knowing if he should leave, even for a short while, to go check on the knights outside.

But then he hears the familiar sound of clashing swords outside and then Niall’s _shriek_. Except it isn’t really one of horror, more— astonishment. Harry frowns, about to turn around and check on the knights just as he sees Niall and Liam run in, faces pale but lips drawn in a line, probably to avoid waking Louis up.

Instead, Liam quickly walks up to him and then drops a broken sword in his hand. Harry blinks, looking down at it — except the sword possesses the Payne’s coat of arms on its handle.

“How— what?” the prince very eloquently asks.

“The sword, my prince,” Liam explains, motioning Niall to walk forward and present the sword they found again, now sporting a new tiny scratch on its left side. “It broke mine _immediately_.”

“Immediately?” Harry repeats as he carefully inspects Liam’s sword. The cut is surprisingly clean, right in the middle of it and leaving behind a sharp edge. The prince carefully runs his gloved hands on the metal. Liam’s sword is not old by any means — it is at least a few months old, to coincide with Liam’s birthday. Courtesy of his father who asked Oìstin for a custom made sword.

Thinking about the blacksmith again makes Harry’s heart sink, Gemma’s words ringing back in his head. Oìstin is the best blacksmith the kingdom has to offer, the one everyone goes to for new weapons, who are they supposed to turn to if the King ends up truly executing him? When war seems to be arising and they have now discovered that the man has been able to create even stronger and sturdier weapons for the enemy? Who else would be left other than… Louis?

But Louis did not grow up with his father. He does not know how to work with metals concretely. He was supposed to— that was his original destiny, but Harry— Harry and his family changed that.

“It was barely a fight,” Niall adds on, bringing the prince back to the issue at hand, “Sir Grégoire and Sir Nicholas can confirm we met blades once and suddenly half of Liam’s sword flew away.”

Just as he says that the two knights in question walk in as well, carefully closing — and blocking — the door behind them. Harry only hums as he beckons Niall closer, taking Excalibur in his other hand.

For a split second, he feels warmth spread over his arm as soon as his palm meets the handle which didn’t happen the first time he held it, making him frown as some kind of glow around the blade starts to appear before his eyes and yet none of the knights seems to react to it so he simply shakes his head.

“Shall we get rid of it?” Liam asks. “It would be a waste to throw such craftsmanship away…”

“And even if this serves as a proof of guilt, that man is not going to walk free whether we bring it to the King or not,” Sir Nicholas speaks up from where he’s leaning against the door, earning a glare from the rest of the group. “Do not look at me like I am bringing new knowledge.”

“Tactfulness is not your thing, is it,” Sir Grégoire deadpans as he sighs. “Although he is right,” he continues, addressing the prince now. “This might just be a feeling but I do not think this weapon was made for the Druids. They do not fight a lot with swords and this one is clearly designed for someone who is familiar with one.”

Niall hums, eyes boring into the white blade of this Excalibur sword. “It is heavy, Druids like lighter weapons like bows, spears, and glaives. We would need Louis’ expertise to confirm it, but it feels like this was made for you, Prince Harry. I think… I think it would be best to keep it and use it when needed.”

“It has _magic_ ,” Harry replies, voice dripping with contempt without realising. Liam, Grégoire, and Nicholas barely seem fazed, but the look of disappointment Niall sends him somehow makes his stomach churn. He sighs as he looks down on Louis’ sleeping form. “I mean— I don’t know. It would not feel right.”

“Would it?” Niall prompts. “This was literally given to you. Oìstin sent us here and specifically told Louis to take you here. There is no way the King does not know of this place and did not already have knights inspect it which means the sword was specifically put there knowing you would be the one finding it. I do not think it is a coincidence.”

“Oìstin is a wise man,” Liam backs up, a thoughtful frown of his own creasing his forehead. “He would not go to such lengths if he knew you would just toss it into a lake or something.”

“But the King would know, wouldn’t that put Harry in danger?” Sir Grégoire asks.

“Do you really think the King would be willing to punish his own son?” Sir Nicholas questions as well.

The silence that follows, effectively answering the question, makes Harry shiver and almost drop the sword. His Father would not— would he? Perhaps he would not meet his death, Harry figures, but he would certainly be sent away or put into the dungeon for at least a week or so to make him learn. He just knows it…

He has seen it first-hand with Gemma.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

_Gemma huffed as she refused the food Harry slipped into her cell, crusty bread rolling over the dirty rocks and rats immediately running to get to it then disappearing again in their hole. The prince sighed at his sister’s antics._

_“Come on now, Gemma, why are you making this more difficult than it needs to be?” he asked, annoyance transpiring in his voice. “If you just apologised, Father would let you out immediately… not in a month.”_

_“Do I look like I care, little brother?” she replied, crossing her arms. “I was not out of line, he is the one being nonsensical!”_

_“I am not sure about that…” he mumbled, earning another heated glare from his sister._

_“Since Louis left you have grown so apathetic I can barely recognise you,” the princess hissed and Harry’s heart sank at the name, face hardening as he returned her glare, “you used to find all the ways to challenge Father and fight when he said or did something that hurt you… that hurt Louis. And now? Now you are simply a puppet, repeating the same old hate speech against magic like he is and you don’t even want to think for yourself.”_

_“And how is that different from you spouting out sympathy for the very people who killed Mother and helping them escape?!” Harry raised his voice. “You do not even care about our family or this kingdom!”_

_Gemma laughed — it was almost maniacal. There was nothing humorous about that laugh but it was mocking, purposely full of disdain. And it hurt, truly, to see his own sister turn against him._

_“That is so rich from you when I am the only one who bothers to visit our people. The normal peasants working hard to provide us with food and resources… They do not hate magic, they hate_ us _,” she lectured. “I would rather die here, in this rotten cell, than pretend I am peaceful with the idea that hundreds of innocent lives are being taken in the name of our Mother who absolutely loathed violence and loved magic.”_

_“You have no idea what you are talking about,” Harry argued some more. “I am trying to help you here.”_

_“And so am I, Harry,” Gemma countered, smiling saccharine sweet. “Louis is not here to put some sense into you and you have scared Liam away. I am your sister, you cannot get rid of me. But I see the sight of me unfairly put behind those old bars is not able to raise any sympathy from you, you would rather blindly follow Father even though you hate him too,” she continued, so nonchalant and unbothered, it made Harry’s blood boil. “So, tell me again which one of us does not care about our family?”_

_“You are right,” he conceded, “I do not care about you.”_

_He did not expect how hurtful those words were, even to himself as Gemma slumped in defeat, her strong tense gone for a few seconds as she sighed, voice soft and tired, “I figured so, you should go.”_

_She stayed there for an additional week after the month originally planned when she still refused to apologise and admit fault. When she got out, thin body and pale skin, she refused to talk to anyone but Liam or her servants for another month._

_Harry felt bad, guilt eating him from the inside as his hands itched to knock every time he passed by her chambers and he could hear her sing an old lullaby he could vaguely remember Oìstin — or was it Stephen? — singing to him and Louis when they were younger._

_He was too proud to admit he missed it._

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Harry does not leave Louis’ side as afternoon turns into night and the servant still does not wake up. They have decided to stay the night in case any druid would come by and they could get some more needed information. Travelling at night was also more dangerous, truly. Harry has also decided to keep the sword, giving his current one to Liam in the meantime. He was quite surprised by the fact that Excalibur surprisingly fits perfectly in his scabbard and does not feel that heavier against his hip.

The prince sighs, the sound echoing around the empty house. The knights are outside, making a fire and cooking what they had brought with them so he is left alone with his thoughts until further notice. His hand keeps gravitating around Louis’ form, checking every once in a while that his pulse is still there. Sometimes, Louis stirs in his sleep and seems to curl up at Harry’s touch or tries to unconsciously catch his hand and it makes Harry smile a little in the gloomy atmosphere.

“My prince,” Liam’s voice startles him a little, “you should eat.”

“Harry,” he says without really thinking, “call me Harry,” he elaborates when the knight only blinks at him, pure astonishment on his face.

“Oh, uh, alright, Harry.” He sounds delighted, though he tries to hide it and the prince turns his head so his smile cannot be seen by his childhood friend as the latter sits down next to him and hands him some meat. “Everything was a little too much for our little Louis, wasn’t it,” the knight remarks next, hand resting on the servant’s hair, stroking gently.

 _Our_. Harry is not sure if he likes that.

“I thought he was finally getting proper sleep since Father gave him and Niall that room but…” he doesn’t finish his sentence, taking a bite of his meal first.

Liam hums. “Niall said Louis usually sleeps better when they share the bed, it must be nice to have an extra source of warmth in these increasingly colder times.” Harry’s eye twitches but he takes another bite, willing himself to not make any comment. “Why would Oìstin betray the crown, you think?”

Harry shrugs, still at a loss for an answer for this. As stated, Oìstin is a wise and loyal man and in some way, he feels like being found out was a part of a greater plan — though perhaps, going by the man’s remorseful face while he talked with Louis, he did not expect to be… _sacrificed_ , in a way, right now. The one thing he does not get is that— Louis is his everything. The few times Harry visited him during the past six years, Oìstin would always muse about how his son is doing in Mercia, that the letters he sent him showed excitement and love. He remembers wanting the same thing— a good relationship with his father and those fucking letters. God knows what Desmond has done with them now, he probably burned them.

“I’m…” he starts, gulping when he realises how weak his voice sounds. Liam does not comment on it and simply waits, hands still gently caressing the top of Louis’ head. “I won’t let Oìstin die.”

The knight frowns. “And how, exactly?”

“I’ll help him escape.”

“My Prince…”

“I know I know, I am about to do the same thing Gemma did but for all I know she is already trying to find a way to free them all.”

“The dungeon is more protected than ever before,” Liam warns. “Gemma could because your Father did not expect it but she is now always watched.”

“She is?!”

Liam blinks, an awkward smile falling on his lips. “Oh I thought you knew, I am kind of tasked to… watch _you_ too.”

Harry wants to scream. In some way, he already knew, hence why he did not like Liam’s presence at the beginning but having it confirmed furthermore amplifies the growing resentment in him.

“What happens if your Father catches you?” the knight asks then.

The prince sighs, shrugging as he sees Louis stir in his sleep again. “I will handle it. My life is not in danger, not like Oìstin’s is.”

“What about the others in the dungeon right now?” Liam presses on. “We— we know Oìstin is guilty, but for all we know, the others are innocent. How would it be fair? To only help one man who is guilty of the crime he is accused of?” It is not accusatory, in fact, the knight sounds quite remorseful and Harry is aware it is because he has been part of some of the arrests although they tear his heart apart.

Liam is a deeply compassionate man despite his incredible skills with a sword and Harry has no doubt that if he had been born in another family far from the noble life, he would simply be a gentle farmer or perhaps the baker of the town.

“Would it be selfish to admit this is all just for… someone.” He doesn’t need to spell it out, he knows Liam understands with the way he smiles and lowers his gaze on the sleeping servant next to them again.

“It would,” the knight answers. “I cannot say I blame you. You will have to be honest to his face someday Harry, you know that, right?”

“I know…”

“Hey… if it’s any consolation… just because he was happier in Mercia does not mean he did not want to be with you again. In the letters he sent me, he always asked me how you were doing and if one day we could visit him.” _You turned down every time I offered, though_ , is gone unsaid between them. _Father also forbade me to leave the kingdom until my training was completed_ , Harry would have responded.

“I wish I had gotten those fucking letters,” the prince mumbles.

Harry folds his legs, resting his arm on his knee so he can lean his face in the palm of his hand, hiding half of it as he bites back another complaint and holding back odd tears welling up in his eyes. So many years lost and they can barely make up for it now with everything going on. He is scared of what they will find next as they go back to Camelot.

Louis does not wake up for the rest of the night.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Harry wakes up with a start, small hands suddenly shaking him. He startles, blinking his eyes open and immediately meeting the familiar blue of Louis’ eyes and is about to ask what is the matter but the servant immediately covers his mouth and the prince finds himself holding his breath for a second as their position suddenly sinks in because the younger boy is also, for some reason, sat on his stomach.

“There are people outside,” Louis whispers, a subtle hint of fear in his voice. “They know we are here, they saw the fire outside. Niall was up earlier to feed the horses and saw them. They have bows, but I’m pretty sure they are druids so those arrows are most likely the least of our worries.”

“Wha— Where are the knights?” the prince asks in a similarly low voice as he removes Louis’ hand from his face, a subtle shiver going through him as his fingers meet the cold metal of his ring there.

Since when does Louis wear a ring?

“Guarding the back of the house.”

“And they left you and me alone? Louis, _they are after us_.”

The servant tilts his head as if confused. “No, they are after _you_. I am just a scapegoat if they do not manage to capture you.”

“You are the son of the man who has been helping them, I think you are underplaying how much they might value your existence,” Harry points out, making the smaller man frown and look down in contemplation for a few seconds.

Instead of replying, Louis stands up then just as the floor starts to tremble. The prince is quick on his feet as well, patting his side to make sure his belongings and most importantly the sword, are still there. They are.

“Come on, we have to hurry,” Louis presses on.

And so they hurry.

Louis runs first towards the back of the house but Harry spots Liam’s broken sword lying there and grabs it. He vaguely registers Louis whispering in a hushed tone behind him before he quickly runs to the main door and manages to slip the broken sword under it, blocking it momentarily. The floor hasn’t stopped trembling yet he does not hear anyone close-by but shakes his head before he can question it furthermore and turns around to follow his servant.

Sir Grégoire is guarding the back door as they arrive and they all usher outside, finding Liam and Sir Nicholas hiding by the empty barn on the side of the cottage. It seems particularly quiet outside if they forget the trembling soil beneath their feet indicating that they are, indeed, in imminent danger despite the looks of it.

“Niall is hiding in the forest with the horses on our right,” Louis says at last as he seems to pat his thighs, probably in search of his dagger.

“How do you even know that he’s been gone for a while!” Sir Nicholas points out and Harry has to stop himself from hitting him.

“That is not important,” Liam jumps in as he pulls his daggers out of his own belt, “we need to join him and then make a detour if the druids follow us. They may know Brocéliande better than we do but we are in Camelot’s land and they are in foreign territory. We have the upper hand.”

“We did not last time and we are disadvantaged in numbers, surely,” Sir Grégoire reminds him. “We just need to be faster than them and avoid fighting, we have no chance of winning against their magic.”

“We have the sword, if we are willing to use it,” Louis points out and Harry somehow feels the object in question warm his side as soon as the words come out of the servant’s mouth. He tentatively takes it out of his scabbard, its warming glow almost blinding him. The knights do not seem to react once again but Louis squints his eyes a little as he averts his gaze towards the forest on their right. “My father left it here for a reason, and it will not be to just give it to the druids.”

“Louis,” Harry calls, “do you think Oìstin will talk?”

The servant gives him a saddened look. “No. Why would he send us here knowing we could be ambushed, however, that I don’t know.”

“Is it possible it is part of his plan?” Sir Grégoire suggests.

Louis sends him an offended look. “To get the prince captured?”

“No, to get _you_ to them.” Louis’ look on his face is similar to the one he displayed as Harry brought up the idea just minutes prior — confusion and disbelief.

And then something just seems to click in the prince’s mind as a small gasp escapes him without his consent, bringing everyone’s attention back to him.

“Your mother, Louis!” The servant frowns in confusion, as do the other knights as well. “She was kidnapped by sorcerers when the Purge began, what if she is the one trying to get you back all the while taking revenge in the kingdom that failed her?”

“I was told my mother was killed and only recently father told me the reality!” Louis exclaims, a sudden fury in his eyes as he stares up at the prince. “How do you even know that?”

“Gemma told me… and Father and Stephen admitted they did not do anything to help and find her again,” he answers as softly as possible, bringing his free hand to Louis’ shoulders in a vain attempt to calm him down.

“Oh. Delightful. And none of them bothered to tell me?” Louis chuckles but it is empty.

“Hold on, I am sorry for interrupting but how credible can this theory be?” Liam jumps in again, making both Louis and Harry look at him. “We are not risking either of you getting captured even if you possibly will not get hurt.”

“That is a lot to take in and not to ruin the emotional moment but arrows are flying our way, get down!” Sir Nicholas announces fast enough for everyone to indeed duck down just as arrows start flying above them, some getting stuck on the barn’s old wood. Harry gulps, grabbing Louis closer as he readjusts his grip on Excalibur while Grégoire is quick to grab some of the arrows next to him, adding them to his own quiver. He hears Louis mumble something under his breath and does not get to question it, Liam’s gaze catching his attention first.

“You and Louis run to Niall and the horses and then hide in the forest, Nicholas, Grégoire and I will hold them off. They will not hurt us if they see we have no one they seek to capture,” Liam whispers as the two other knights nod, already starting to stand up, readjusting their armour.

“How do you know they will not?” Harry questions.

“At the water source. They do not kill, they intimidate and they capture, that is their way of thinking. We will be fine.”

“Liam… what if they—” Louis’ small voice starts but gets interrupted as a single arrow lands perfectly in between his and the knight’s body. The servant startles, swearing under his breath as Harry holds him closer to his side again.

“How is that for intimidation,” the prince mutters under his breath as he takes a quick look behind them to see at least five hooded people on their own horses making their way towards them. Two of them, only, with their bows in one hand while the three others just seem to be observing, pale naked hands facing the ground.

Until the one in the middle of them removes their hood, revealing long flowing blond hair and crystal blue eyes. He feels Louis gasp against him and all the knights take an even more defensive stance at the new sight and Harry figures she must be the witch who has been instigating all of this.

She must have recognised who is standing before her because she vaguely gestures to her companions to stay put as she jumps off her horse and discards her cloak altogether, thus showing she doesn’t have any weapon on her. She looks friendly enough, Harry gathers, with her youthful lines and inviting smile, but he has learned to be wary of those people the most.

The ground has stopped trembling as well, Harry only now realises. The witch makes her way towards them, none of the druids behind her following but stance just as defensive as his knights and with every step she takes, Harry starts to walk away as well, firmly grabbing Louis by the arm despite the servant’s odd reluctance. They are supposed to run away, why isn’t anyone moving?!

“No wait!” the young lady shouts. “I do not want to fight, I swear on the High Priestesses!” That gets Harry’s attention. The prince does not know much about druids as his Father limited the resources on the magic world he could access despite how useful it would be now in a time of almost-war, but the one thing he knows and that Niall has also told him over the last few weeks is that the druids work in a hierarchy and hold in high graces the Old Religion that Camelot and many other kingdoms have abandoned. The High Priestesses were the chief servants of the Triple Goddess who created Albion many centuries ago and is said to still be around the land for anyone who seeks her help. They were powerful sorceresses who held in their hands the power of life and death and chose who got to have magic in them or not.

And most importantly, they are not names a druid would utter in vain. So the prince stops.

“Those arrows say otherwise, witch,” Sir Nicholas responds then.

“They were not meant to hit,” she dismisses with a huff before her eyes fall on Harry who quickly pushes Louis behind him despite a slight protest from the latter. “I am here to talk… to Louis.”

Despite his attempt to keep him close, the servant slips through his arms and then Liam’s when the knight also tries to stop him. The witch does not move as Louis makes his way towards her, arms outstretched as if to prove she was harmless despite all of them knowing she could be preparing a spell in her mind. The servant stops a foot away from her, defensive and wary. He is taller than her, Harry then realises — probably older too. The witch looks like a teenager as she smiles wide, huge excited eyes looking up at his servant.

The prince is as confused as Louis sounds as he asks, “How do you know my name?”

The witch giggles. “Technically, I know _Alaois_. But Oìstin made sure to let us know you go by Louis now. That is your name in the Old Religion’s language.”

“I am sure I know what my own name is…” Louis says, a slight quiver to his voice. “What do you want?”

“Firstly, to apologise for your father— the plan was not to be discovered this early.” Harry sees Louis’ fist twitch. “Secondly, since this cannot get through the royal family, I need to emphasise this with you as I know you are more knowledgeable than they are: the Triple Goddess is _furious_. If Camelot does not cease to kill innocent lives, she will burn Camelot and its allies to the ground and start anew unless magic is restored within the Styles land.”

She sounds mighty and threatening again, eyes a darker shade of blue as she spares a glance towards Harry. The prince does not falter though he feels a shiver run down his spine. From the side of his vision, he spots Niall joining them, the horses following him. The Mercian looks vigilant, a hand holding one of the horse’s lead while the other remains around the area of his sword. The witch spots the movement as well and Harry sees a spark of recognition in her eyes before she turns back her attention on Louis again.

“Anyway!” she says gleefully as she suddenly jumps forward and grabs Louis’ hand before the latter could react, “This ring was Mother’s isn’t it?” she asks rhetorically. “Did you not my letter? She is waiting for you!”

 _Mother_? Why is she talking like they have the same mother?

“Stop!” Louis yells, panic transparent in his face as he takes a full step back and cradles his hand to his chest. “I have no idea what you are talking about, Charlotte.”

Charlotte?

The witch lights up. “Oh, you do know my name! Then, what if I told you you could gain a parent back despite losing another?”

“My father is not dead!” the servant protests immediately. “I can still save him!”

“Only if your little prince over there does something about it but he already failed, didn’t he?” she huffs, sending an unimpressed glance towards Harry who takes full offence. “Come on, you will be happier with us! And like that, you can also avoid the war that will undoubtedly fall on Camelot and lead to its downfall.”

“Be careful with your words, witch,” the prince finally speaks up, seeing the way the witch’s face goes from cheerful to pure disdain as she looks at him, “for they may be considered an official declaration of war.”

“My prince, it would be better to not instigate anything here,” Liam interrupts. The witch smiles wide at the remark.

“Clever man you have as your personal guard,” she comments, and although it seems mocking, there is a genuine edge to her voice. “Anyway, Louis? Time to go home, please? Mother has been waiting for you just like Oìstin was hoping we would find you.” She sounds hopeful now, almost pleading as well as she offers her hand.

Time seems to stop then as Louis stares at the hand, a hundred thoughts running through his head before he slowly turns around to face Harry. The prince’s breath gets knocked out of him upon meeting the uncertainty in his servant’s eyes.

“I— I cannot,” Louis answers, at last, keeping eye contact with Harry for a few more seconds before he looks back at Charlotte again. “I have no way of knowing if you are lying or not and I’m— I’m just a _servant_. There was no need to do all that to find me!”

Charlotte does not reply for a while, lifting an eyebrow and then looking at Harry and the knights, eyes staying just a tiny bit longer on Niall.

“You are poorly surrounded if that is what you think you are worth,” she huffs, “Brother, please.”

“Brother?” all men without exception exclaim and Louis takes a physical step back again, dodging the witch who reaches a hand forward to catch him. And then he runs. Right past Niall and the horses, without looking back.

“Louis!” Harry vaguely registers her scream as he promptly turns around, grabs a horse, and quickly catches up to his servant who’s run into the forest. Louis slows down as soon as he hears the galloping of the horse behind him and Harry helps him up, securing his servant’s arms around him.

He sees in the distance the knights catching up to them as well while Charlotte stands alone by the barn, arms crossed and brows furrowed — or at least Harry guesses that is the expression of frustration she wears as she turns around and joins her fellow druids.

They are not going to chase them, it would be foolish really, Harry realises, to follow them back to the main town where soldiers are most deployed.

This endeavour was interesting, to say the least. Excalibur feels heavy by his side, almost as much as Louis’ weight on his back. He still has no idea what he is supposed to do with the sword which gives him another reason to free the blacksmith. If not for Louis, he also needs advice for himself.

At the thought of the treacherous man, the witch’s voice yelling Louis’ name in such a betrayed and hurt tone continues to ring in Harry’s mind as he stares up ahead, encouraging his horse to carefully trot into the muddy path and trying to ignore the way Louis is trembling behind him as he holds on to him.

“We cannot— we cannot tell anyone what just happened,” Liam says suddenly. This might be the first time Harry sees him be truly at a loss. “Or Louis would—”

He would be suspected of sorcery as well. Louis does not reply.

“We’ll tell Father we did not find anything of value. Nicholas and Grégoire, if you utter a single word of this, you will be punished.” The two knights do not even bother to reply and simply look ahead after a solemn nod.

“My person really is not worth all this trouble, my prince—” Louis starts, arms tightening around the prince’s waist.

He sighs. This again. “Louis, do me a favour and be quiet.”

 _A servant should not be this important_ , the King’s words come back to him again, but he is. And if Camelot ever has to go down, he will not let Louis out of his reach again.

He needs to help Oìstin escape— and quick.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would say sorry for knocking Louis out for about half the chapter but listen, he needed the break lol Louis' family arc is coming up... we'll stay in Harry's pov for a little while though :>


	6. Sacrifice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loss is never easy to handle, despite how familiar Louis is with the feeling. Harry thought he could start to change things, but it proves harder than he imagined.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> listen, you saw the name of the chapter, I changed the rating and the warnings of the fic just in case (I don't think it is very graphic but characters do talk about it). so yeah :') this is my favourite chapter I've written so far and I'm quite thrilled to be sharing it c:
> 
> [Tumblr Post](https://lwtisloved.tumblr.com/post/640491465750003712/truth-behind-golden-eyes-by-myenglishrose-a) ¦¦ [Twitter Post](https://twitter.com/darlinlou/status/1350504077084520450?s=20)  
> Good reading x
> 
> warnings/spoilers for this chapter: mention of blood, non-descriptive character death

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

_Harry’s endeavours outside of the castle’s grounds were rare. Everything he needed on a day to day basis was within reach or delivered by servants in the blink of an eye so he never really had to leave the castle and if he tried, he would be stopped anyway. The one exception to that rule was when he needed a new sword. And that day, perhaps he was a bit too enraged during his training session with Liam and ended up breaking his sword, somehow, in the process._

_The prince was too proud to admit this was not the first time it happened, though the first time he did it on purpose to have a reason to stop training and go visit Oìstin. This time was just pure anger running through his vain as he was reminded of the date._

_Louis had been gone for two years by that point and Harry still struggled to get used to the silent hallways and boring afternoons. Liam was there, and the prince was more than thankful for the bits of friendship the knight — he had been officially knighted a few months ago — tried to provide but it just was not… the same. Meanwhile, his relationship with his sister had just been going downhill and he barely saw his own Father outside of awkward and silent meals._

_Life just was not so… joyful, without Louis around, though Harry had noticed some other servants being happy that he was gone. He could not exactly blame them, he supposed, Louis did not really come from a poor family that took up the servant’s role as a last resort after all and was sort of handed to Harry as a… gift, in a sense, so from their perspective, he was more than privileged compared to them._

_Harry shook his head as he pushed the door to the royal armoury situated in town — to fool enemies, his Father had said, as they only have a small room in the castle where attackers would most likely search first — and walked in. Oìstin was sorting out the weapons and new armour and immediately smiled, waving the prince over._

_“Right on time, boy,” the blacksmith greeted cheerfully, making Harry’s lips curl up in a tiny smile. He did not let many people talk to him so casually anymore but the man was one of the exceptions, “I tried to create a stronger alloy for your sword, tested it a couple of times, even broke an old one I had made for Liam during your early training phases.”_

_Harry chuckled weakly as he followed him through the armoury. “Sorry about that… On the positive side, if this alloy is truly stronger it can benefit the whole army, so perhaps my anger is a blessing in disguise.” The attempt at humour fell flat as Oìstin only levelled him with a sympathetic look._

_“You do not have to pretend in front of me, you know? I am aware you miss my son.” The prince bit his lips. “You should not repress your emotions.”_

_“I have to if they give away any weakness.”_

_“Is that what your father said?” Harry did not respond. “He does not seem to mind your fits of anger. I cannot say that is healthier.”_

_“Sword,” Harry reminded him. “I’m just here for the sword.”_

_Oìstin hummed as he suddenly stopped walking and grabbed a sword that was proudly poised against a pedestal. “You are an incredibly bad liar, son,” the man teased as he ran a finger through the blade. Harry saw a hint of blood on his finger as Oìstin shook it but his face showed no sign of pain whatsoever. He must be used to it, Harry gathered from the multiple bruises on the man’s hands. “Louis wrote the other week,” the man said with a gentle smile while Harry felt his heart skip a beat. “He is currently learning about medicinal herbs.”_

_“That is… good for him,” he muttered as he tried to reach out to grab the sword but Oìstin pulled it away with a sly smile. It unnerved the prince a little — he knew where Louis got his playful side from._

_“He said he misses you too, the lilies in Aelith’s garden reminding him of you,” the blacksmith informed him, traits softening as he watched Harry’s defence disappear. “Distance makes the heart grow fonder.”_

_Harry frowned, crossing his arms. “It hurts, though.”_

_“I know. But you will reunite again someday and that is the thought you need to entertain until then.” Only then did Oìstin hand him the sword carefully. It felt a little heavier than his previous one. More robust. His initials engraved in the blade shone against his eyes. “Test the sword with Liam. If there are any issues, come back. Or pretend there is an issue and come back here anyway just to talk, alright?”_

_Oìstin ruffled his hair and that did make Harry smile big for the first time in months._

_“Bring Liam next time too, haven’t seen ‘im ever since he officially became a knight. I barely get to see my own son so I refuse to let that other one drift away as well.”_

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

When they arrive back to the castle, the afternoon’s sun shines bright on their faces as a few villagers and merchants welcome them back with cheers and gifts, though, as Harry accepts them with a practised smile, he cannot help but notice some of these people’s hands trembling, nervousness potent in their eyes. He does not comment on it, obviously, and simply hands the offerings to Louis who promptly stuffs them into one of their bags.

Soon enough, Harry lets Liam and the knights take the horses back to the stable, while he, Louis, and Niall walk back into the castle, still in complete silence. It is only when they approach his chamber that Harry stops walking.

“Louis, I need to talk to you for a moment, Niall can you leave us?”

Niall seems reluctant at first, frowning with a subtle pout on his lips, probably aware that it was not an actual question, rather an implied order but he still waits to meet Louis’ eyes before he nods. Harry tries to ignore how that silent conversation makes him feel.

“Of course, if you need me I will be at the tavern, I need a drink after this whole thing,” the Mercian says with a smile though he does not leave just yet, grabbing Louis’ hand and patting the back of it for good measure. “See you tonight.”

“Do not cause any chaos,” is the only response Louis gives followed by a small huff and Harry does not miss the way both he and Niall smile at the sound at the same time.

Soon enough, however, the unofficial knight finally walks away, going back on his steps and Harry only feels slightly bad about making him walk through the whole castle only to send him away but then his eyes catch Louis’. Time seems to slow down for a moment as the smaller man looks up at him with careful curiosity.

Without much thinking, Harry reaches forward, his hand grazing Louis’ cheek, and when the latter does not flinch away, even seems to stop himself from leaning into the touch, the prince caresses his cheek with his thumb, loving the subtle shiver he can feel running through Louis’ body under his fingertips. He breathes in deeply.

“Are you alright? You have been awfully quiet during the journey back, this is not like you.”

“That is the second time you say that, Harry,” Louis chuckles weakly though a long sigh promptly follows. “There was just… a lot to take in in a matter of a few hours. I still have no idea what we are supposed to do now.”

“Do you… do you regret saying no to that witch?” He truly cannot help the slightly bitter tone suddenly taking over his tongue at the last two words.

Louis’ eyes light up suddenly but Harry cannot decipher if it is panic or surprise, perhaps a mix of both. He feels Louis’ defence go up again, a small frown deepening his forehead.

“Would you have let me go?”

Harry bites his lip. _No_. That is his immediate answer. He probably would have not, not _again_.

“I did leave you the choice to answer her without intervening,” he says instead and it is true. At the moment, he did not dare speak a word, afraid any little action could completely change Louis’ mind. His relationship with his servant has been feeble at best ever since Louis came back a few months ago now and he does not want to risk breaking it again.

“That did not answer my question,” Louis points out, eyes big and expectant. “If I _had_ said yes, would you have let me go?”

The prince sighs as well as he unconsciously brings his other hand to frame Louis’ face. “Probably not,” he says softly, face getting closer, slowly breathing in Louis’ slightly earthy scent. “For all we know it could have simply been a trick to capture you, using sympathy, and then they could have used you… against me.” Louis lowers his eyes as he seems to apprehend the possibility. “But also… I lost you once I… I don’t know if I can handle losing you a second time.”

“Harry…”

The moment gets momentarily broken as they hear servants hurrying down the halls and coming their way, making Louis immediately jump back, cheeks reddening. Harry watches as those people run past them without really paying them any attention aside from a quick nod of acknowledgement and a whispered “Sire” as he lets his hand fall back to his side, trying to ignore the odd disappointment in his heart.

“Let’s uh— go into my chamber, it would probably be better,” he says as he opens the door. The servant immediately slides into the room, diving under Harry’s arm and then grabbing it and pulling the prince inside as well. Harry yelps at the sudden action, hurrying to close the door behind him with a racing heart — though he is not quite sure why he feels this exhilarated.

He takes a few seconds to catch his breath again that he did not realise he had been holding before he turns around only to see Louis sat on the floor by the bed’s feet, looking ever so small and lost.

“I never stopped to think about my mother before I got her brooch— that I turned into a ring, here,” Louis starts to explain when Harry slowly makes his way towards him, lifting his right hand and wiggling his fingers. The small piece of jewellery catches the rays of sunshine filtering the room, blinding the prince a little. “It’s just— I always assumed she was dead despite how vague my father and Stephen always were and in a sense it made it easier, to think that. Now that there is a possibility she’s alive— I don’t know. I want to find her, I _will_ find her but…”

Louis stops there just as Harry lowers himself, crouching in front of him and taking Louis’ hand with the ring in his. He brings his other hand to his chest, heart heavy, as he thinks about his Mother’s pendant hidden behind his chest plate and clothes. While Harry used to talk so much about the Queen, his mother, while growing up, Louis never shared his thoughts about his own mother’s curious death — or well, disappearance. In a sense, he always thought Louis did not… really care. He just never showed it to him until now. The servant’s hand is shaking in his and Harry does not need to look to know the younger boy is crying again. He squeezes gently. A gentle promise.

“If she knows where I am, why not come find me herself? How could she think a random witch who basically sent my father to death’s rail would make me want to leave Camelot so suddenly? This kingdom is nowhere perfect, I will admit it, I preferred Mercia where no responsibilities laid on my shoulders but…” Harry feels Louis squeeze his hand back. “My only family is here. I do not know my mother or this Charlotte who thinks I am her brother. But then again, what will I have once my father is gone? Even if we manage to save him he will have to leave Camelot… for good. And leave me behind. Like my mother did. I would be more at peace knowing he is still alive although away from me.”

“We will find a way, Louis.”

When their gazes meet again, no trace of hope can be found in the blue of Louis’ eyes. Harry sighs.

“Either way, you have me, Liam, Gemma, and Niall,” he points out, “do you think it would ever be enough?”

Louis blinks at him, a hint of a smile there. “I suppose so,” the servant replies with a slightly teasing tone but it is not a definite _yes_ either. Harry does not try to push it.

“I think we all need some rest for the next few days. You are free of any duty for the rest of the week unless there is an urgent matter.”

“But the next public executions…”

“Are tomorrow,” Harry finishes for him.

And just like that, the atmosphere in the room drops.

“In any case, the door to my chamber is always open to you, even if I am not here,” the prince tells him. “I want to make it up for you.”

This time, the smile on Louis’ lips is prominent. “Thank you,” the servant says softly as he brings Harry’s hand towards him, cradling it against his chest with a satisfied grin. “See, I missed this Harry. _My_ Harry.”

The prince’s heart flutters as he can feel Louis’ warmth against his palm. Welcoming and enticing.

He missed his Louis too.

For some reason, he cannot say it out loud just yet. He settles for enjoying the moment, intertwining their fingers as Louis’ heartbeat slowly but surely goes back to a steady rhythm.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Liam has always been one to follow the rules strictly. Being Harry’s personal guard gave ways for some deviations, however, because his oath to the prince surpasses his oath to Camelot. Harry should not be surprised by the knight’s undeniable loyalty over the years despite how badly he had treated him in the past at times, yet here he is, still baffled by the fact that Liam is willing to risk his life for him.

Because if Harry is caught trying to free a prisoner, he would get a punishment at best. If Liam gets caught, he will join the line for the next executions.

To be frank, Harry originally wanted Gemma to help him instead as she knew the place better than anyone else with her past of sneaking in and out of it and knowing the both them risked little repercussions from their Father but, while Gemma’s views on executions and magic have not changed, her experience in the dungeon did leave a scar on her mind. Though she always holds her head up high, whenever the dungeon is mentioned or she walks near the general area, a subtle tremor starts to shake her frail body and he did not want to make her relive that memory. In a sense, the punishment worked, Harry thinks sadly.

She is still helping, though not directly. They are supposed to meet by the armoury once they get Oìstin out of the dungeon and from there, Gemma apparently knows people and secret passages that would lead them outside of Camelot’s borders without having to pass through the main entrance where guards control every entry. It took a bit of coaxing for her to admit it though and Harry could not exactly blame her — just a few weeks ago, he probably would have denounced her to their Father and the mere thought makes him want to hide in shame.

He sighs as they quietly walk down the stairs leading to the dungeon, spotting two knights sitting by the table in the resting area, only barely illuminated by a torch above their heads. They do not acknowledge the prince nor Liam apart from a respectful nod as they pass and Harry quickens his pace, feeling his throat become dry.

“The prince and I will be taking your place, you can go home,” he hears Liam say behind him as he keeps his head held up high. Soon enough, Liam is back by his side and slips a set of keys into his hand.

They do not exchange any more words and just quicken their pace.

The dungeon is constructed in a way that it resembles some sort of labyrinth, with doors leading you back to the entrance or a previous cell or barely illuminated dead-end paths to make it harder for prisoners and visitors alike to remember where they came from or where to go. Even knights often get lost when venturing outside of their assigned posts. Oìstin is kept in one of those hidden passages harder to reach as he is considered a huge threat to the kingdom given his previous role and his once closeness with the King — he has been moved only recently, the prince has been told, presumably to prevent Louis from easily finding him to talk to him, he has to assume.

Harry has grown fairly familiar with the dungeon — however sombre that sentence actually sounds. He is nowhere as knowledgeable as his sister is, however, and Liam has actually not stepped foot in the dungeon a lot while growing up in the castle.

It takes longer than they expected to finally find Oìstin’s cell, meeting the paths of at least three other knights on their way and trying to not seem too suspicious as they look around the halls — tunnels, really — though they cannot say anything to the prince and they all are aware of that but nevertheless, Harry would rather not break facade in front of the very people he is supposed to lead soon anyway. Oìstin’s cell is isolated, right at the corner of a dead-end, barely lit by a torch on the wall, burning so small. Except, there is also a knight guarding the cell, of course there is, sitting on a chair below the torch and looking ever so bored out of his mind, head lolled back against the wall.

Harry clears his throat and the knight almost immediately falls.

“Sir Matthew,” the prince greets with an empty smile, “taking your assigned post very seriously I see,” he comments with a raised eyebrow.

The man in front of him splutters, cheeks reddening as he slightly bows his head. “Y-Yes Your Majesty.”

“Are you alone guarding this one? That does not seem like enough,” he comments next.

He sees the way Sir Matthew’s face twitches in slight annoyance at his words but a polite smile remains on his lips as he nods. “I am. Sir Aiden was here just before. Oìstin is rather… compliant, surprisingly.”

Liam hums. “We will see about that, we have found other pieces of evidence of his connections with the Druids and want to talk to him for a moment in case we can get some information about the enemies’ next plans before tomorrow.”

“We will guard him for the rest of the night as well, you can go now, Sir Matthew,” Harry adds on, already turning around to face the cell, briefly meeting eyes with Oìstin’s confused ones but the knight speaks again, bringing his attention back to him.

“I’m afraid I cannot do that, My Prince, direct orders from the King.”

Liam tenses while Harry frowns.

“Why on Albion’s name would he request such thing?” he asks as Sir Matthew shrugs.

“In all due respect, he must know you have some kind of attachment to the prisoner and does not want to risk another incident similar to Lady Gemma’s.”

“You are one of _my_ knights, not _his_ , I should be the one you listen to first!”

“Sir Matthew,” Liam interrupts in a calming voice before the prince could get too heated. “I am here to keep an eye on the Prince. However, what we need to discuss with the prisoner is no lower knight’s business.” The knight’s face fully contracts into a frown this time as he glares at Liam who only smiles back sweetly, fully knowing he is taking advantage of his status. “So I will take it from here, you shall go.”

Sir Matthew presses his lips together, briefly glancing back at the prince who only raises an eyebrow again before he nods mutely.

“Very well, I will assist Sir Aiden, then.”

The knight promptly leaves then. Liam and Harry briefly share a look and then simultaneously sigh of relief.

“What you two boys are doing is highly dangerous when it is only for an old man headed to his death,” Oìstin’s voice suddenly echoes behind them after a few minutes of silence, Sir Matthew’s footsteps having disappeared into the distant darkness now. He sounds tired, and a little bit disappointed for some reason.

Harry internally groans. Does it run in the family to devalue their person?

“We actually do need to talk though,” Liam says, reacting first as he grabs the keys from Harry’s hand and immediately opens the cell, much to the prince’s and blacksmith’s surprise who both just blink at the now opened door. “Did you know the Druids would find us at the cottage?”

“They what?!” Oìstin exclaims, promptly grabbing the knight by his shoulders and looking him directly in his eyes. “Tell me my boy is not hurt.”

“If he were, I believe Prince Harry would have thrown a fit and started a war already,” Liam says in a joking tone.

“Hey!” Harry stops himself from pouting. “He is alright, they did not attack, but he was shaken up a bit. The witch— Charlotte, was there.”

A look of realisation goes through Oìstin’s face before he sighs, shaking his head dejectedly. “I knew that child was too impatient.”

“So you did have a plan for Louis to join the Druids?”

“Not with them trying to kidnap him like that, it seems,” the man admits with a shrug. “I mean no offence, Harry, but if a war were to break, I would rather have my son safe on the winners’ side.”

Harry takes full offence, actually, “I can protect him!”

“From your father? You cannot,” Oìstin argues. Harry blinks, taken aback and simultaneously confused as to why his father is even brought up in the question. They are supposed to be wary of the Druids!

“Why would the King go after him?” Liam asks, struggling to keep up as well as he starts to walk back and forth like he always does when he tries to assess a whole situation. “Does this have to do with the witch calling him her brother? Does this have to do with… with your wife? Is Louis—”

“No,” Oìstin interrupts immediately. “Louis does not have magic or they would have manifested while he was still a child. His mother is a witch, however.” Harry fights to hold back the gasp threatening to get past his lips while Liam stops his pacing immediately.

“She was not very vocal about it, even sort of abandoned the practice, hence why nobody knew… outside of the Queen and her maid — Tricia. When The Purge began, I knew she planned to escape, she had no choice, and she couldn’t take Louis with her just in case he turned out to have magic as well because they killed any woman with children trying to leave Camelot. My Joan… she was- _is_ fierce and rather unpredictable. Since no one knew she was a witch she had to find a way to escape that would not expose her as a witch and thus bring danger Louis’ way. So she planned this whole kidnapping — without telling me. I genuinely thought she was hurt somehow, hence why I begged the King and Stephen to help find her again. I only found out the truth a couple of days later as I found a letter under my pillow she must have left before that, so looking back it perhaps was better they did nothing to help me.”

Oìstin takes a break after this, breath a little laboured as if reminiscing these memories took a toll on his body.

“I told Louis she died because I figured it would be easier. A few years ago, though, during a trip to Agrowven as I was delivering weapons to their army, I— found her again. She had joined the Druids and found…” the man sighs, a sad smile on his lips, “she had found another to love. She was with two other children, one of them named Charlotte.”

“Oh,” both Harry and Liam say at the same time. Oìstin’s smile turns sheepish.

“She learned that Louis was still alive, though she was rather conflicted to learn he was now a royal servant. Charlotte grew quite fascinated at the idea she had a brother out there and obviously, the two wanted to get me and Louis out of Camelot and join them. I would have but…”

“Louis was in Mercia, and you would have been hunted down,” Harry finishes for him, earning a solemn nod from the man.

“Nothing came of it for a while as we could not keep contact regularly, I did not want to risk their lives, but then tensions started to rise, Charlotte turned out to be one of the High Priestesses and she knew she had to do something to appease the Triple Goddess. But she is also a child and she wanted to meet and save her brother first. That morning when your knights caught her at my house, that was her being careless. Although, it was planned that I had to be discovered as a traitor at some point.”

“Why?”

Oìstin fixes him with a strict look. “You’ll figure it out when I die.”

“You won’t die,” Harry counters immediately, “because we’re getting you out of Camelot.”

The blacksmith seems completely taken aback, for some reason, even though seeing Harry and Liam barging up there unannounced should have been enough of a hint of what the plan was.

“There is no way you thought we would let you just be executed,” Liam comments as he ushers Oìstin out of the cell and promptly closes it again behind them. The man is too stunned to actually react or even protest.

“I am pretty sure I just confessed to everything I have been accused of,” Oìstin finally says as Harry hooks the keys to his belt again with a nonchalant shrug.

“I have no idea what you are talking about,” the prince quips.

He briefly sees the man smile down at his shoes, a soft murmured “well, the plan is already working” getting lost in the air as they start to slowly walk away, keeping their stance low.

That is when Harry realises he should have paid more attention while they were stumbling around earlier and when he briefly takes a look at Liam, he spots the same confused and lost expression on his face and he curses under his breath.

So perhaps they had not planned it all the way through. The dungeon feels eerily quiet and for a while, they somehow do not walk past any other knight which was their biggest worry walking in, although Harry has an excuse ready on the tip of his tongue if they were to encounter any. What they did not account for, however, is the other prisoners.

As they round another corner a sudden voice screams “Guards! Guard! Someone escaped!” followed by loud banging against the metal bars.

“Fuck,” the three men simultaneously say while Harry looks around trying to figure out from which cell the voice is coming from but soon enough, others join in, creating a real cacophony and making his ears ring and his heart pound in his chest.

In retrospect, he should have also anticipated this outcome.

Oìstin seems to immediately give up though as he slows down his pace and sighs but Liam is quick to grab him by the arm just as they hear footsteps and the recognisable clashing of the knight’s armour shifting as they run approach. And then they run, losing themselves in the labyrinth again.

They take a new intersection whenever they hear knights approaching, the metalling sounds of the cell bars now only resonating in the distance as they venture deeper into the dungeon, in parts left abandoned or unused ever since The Purge. In their path, Harry tries to extinguish every torch they encounter, missing a few.

“Harry this is pointless, we are going further from the entrance!” Liam finally points out as they shortly take a breath once the knights seem distanced enough.

“This is a dead-end,” Oìstin says, voice surprisingly calm while Liam’s and Harry’s faces pale. Looking around, three walls stand in their way with no other way to escape.

“No no no, this can’t be happening! This was not the plan!” the prince panics, voice resonating loudly around them and breathing picking up but then his heart stops when he suddenly sees the blacksmith with a dagger in his hand. “Since when do you have that?!”

“I’m the bloody blacksmith _of course_ I always have something on me,” the man grins just as they hear the faint echo of a knight — Harry thinks he recognises Sir Aiden’s voice — indicating they saw the escapee run their way. “I was not planning on using it but we need to make it look like I attacked you, so this is perfect.”

“What—” The prince does not get to properly ask questions before Oìstin suddenly launches forward, grabbing the keys from Harry’s belt, scratching Liam’s arm with the dagger on his way as the latter instinctively tries to hold him back. The knight hisses, stumbling back and holding his hand tight to stop the blood from flowing.

It barely hurts, truly, Liam concedes, he has felt worse, but the sudden attack surprised him.

“I will pretend I stole those keys, say I attacked you and that is how I escaped,” the blacksmith says, a little too serenely. “Stay here and pretend you are some kind of hurt, you two. I apologise, Liam.”

“Oìstin I cannot—”

“They cannot know you two had a part in this,” the man interrupts, a pointed look directed at Liam specifically who gulps, taking a step back again, hand still clutched against his chest, “My place in this world is coming to an end, boys, and my only request is that you take care of my fairy prince for me, alright? Please protect Louis, and each other, and make this kingdom better.”

Harry does not get a proper last look at Oìstin’s face as the man promptly turns around, keys in hand and a small dagger on the other, launching himself into the darkness as he feels Liam hold him back when he tries to follow him nevertheless.

He feels Liam tense against him as the distant sound of swords and a painful scream resonate into the dark tunnel. Harry closes his eyes, trying to drown out the panic voices of knights — “I think he’s dead.” “We were only supposed to capture him!” “He fucking attacked me!” — but fails ultimately. He falls to the ground, knees painfully hitting the ground, feeling as if his whole world comes crashing down as a deafening silence now falls upon the dungeon. He sees from the corner of his eyes Liam lean against the wall, a hand over his mouth as unshed tears shine in his eyes, the reality of the situation sinking it.

Despite everything, this is the first time the both of them are truly somewhat directly involved in someone’s death. After all of this… they _failed_. And Louis is going to be _livid_.

“My Prince! Sir Liam! Are you two alright?” A voice suddenly echoes near them and they both look up to see a knight approaching them. The prince almost throws up upon spotting a few spots of blood over the man’s armour.

“Sir Aiden,” Liam greets eventually, “we are alright, no harm has been done to the prince.”

“Are you certain, you look shaken, Your Highness,” the knight asks as he offers a hand but Harry denies it with a shake of his head as he gets up by himself, exaggerating a grimace as he does so.

“I am alright, Oìstin simply pushed me and I must have hit my head but no bruises. Wh— Where is he now?”

Sir Aiden grimaces as well then as he presents the keys and tosses them Liam’s way who catches them with ease. “About that… He came running at us with a dagger and in an attempt to stop him, one of us mistakenly struck him. He— He probably could have survived but then he,” the knight gulps as Harry raises an eyebrow, intrigued. What were Oìstin’s last moments— “stabbed himself.”

This time neither he nor Liam can stop the gasp that escapes their mouth.

“ _If I have to die, it will not be by the hands of a kingdom that took everything from me_ , he said as he bled out, I guess even if he had survived Sir Matthew’s hit, he were to die tomorrow anyway,” there is a hint of admiration in Sir Aiden’s voice as he retells the scene from only a few moments ago, “you know, I was wondering why such an honourable man would turn against us.”

Harry knows but he obviously does not reply. He shares a look with Liam who then solemnly nods.

 _Family_.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

_Learning magic was surprisingly easy, even Aelith was baffled by how quickly Louis could pick up on some spells. Louis always had a good memory so it almost came to him naturally — the issue intervened when he actually had to read the spells on paper. For some reason, the letters kept mixing up in his head until Aelith read them out loud to him and then he would be able to decipher the words and understand them._

_The downside, however, was that he rapidly grew too used to using his magic. After all, why would he bother doing his chores when he could mutter a spell and everything was done without him having to move his pinky? That was his logic until Aelith reminded him Mercia was not Camelot._

_“One day you will have to go back to Camelot and you will not be able to use your magic this carelessly, young man.”_

_“What if I don’t want to go back anyway?” Louis replied, crossing his arms._

_“You will have to, Louis, we both know it.”_

_“Do we? It feels like they have forgotten about me!” The small boy huffed. “My letters go unanswered and I would be risking my life anyway going back.”_

_“There really isn’t any other option, my boy,” Aelith sighed._

_“What about the Druids?” The woman tensed immediately at the child’s words and the latter frowned in confusion. “You said they were pacifist people, I am sure they would be willing to take me in!”_

_“Louis I— No, you can’t, if not the King, Prince Harry will have my head for that and a war would begin.”_

_“A war?” he repeated in disbelief. “For a servant like me? We can be replaced easily.”_

_“Not you. You are not a regular servant if anything really you are being trained as a page despite your lack of noble blood. You are learning how to read and write and how to make medicine out of herbs. You will be essential to the prince’s, and thus the kingdom’s, future.”_

_Louis gulped and held back tears. If he had to be honest with himself, he already was aware of this — and he was terrified of it. Hidden in a small village of Mercia, amongst nature and gentle animals that sometimes knocked on the quaint little house’s door, it was easy to forget what the real reasons why he was even there in the first place were._

_“But I have magic. If they ever find out, no matter how important I am, I would be dead the next day. So what’s the point?”_

_“To try and fix it, don’t you think?” Aelith said quietly as she rounded the table to crouch in front of Louis, hands enveloping his._

_Louis saw a tiny spark emanate from their hands as they touched and he gasped softly as warmth spread in his palm and when Aelith let go a small flower had somehow materialised in the small boy’s hands._

_“Stephen and I failed to remind the King what a beautiful asset magic can be. It brings life. It is a gift, not a curse. But you, my dear, I know you can help Prince Harry see the light and together, the two of you can make Camelot even better than it was before The Purge.”_

_“But… how?”_

_“There is no concrete way of knowing but somehow I just know that your friendship with the prince can change everything. The same way Stephen’s… feelings for the King changed everything. For the worst.”_

_“That… that is not good, though,” he whispered, hands now trembling. Almost immediately, the flower started to wither. He gasped and looked at Aelith with panic in his eyes but the woman simply smiled and took the plant away._

_“I did not mean the comparison negatively. You can and will do better with Harry, I just know you will… if anything The Purge is a reminder of what to avoid. Remember that your magic is deeply influenced by your emotions,” she reminded him. “_ You _are in_ control _.”_

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Sir Grégoire and Sir Nicholas are not guarding their door that night, no one is, but Louis decides it would probably best to avoid walking around the castle and simply sneak out through the window and then quietly make his way towards the dungeon. Well. _Their_ way. He figured that this time, Niall might as well come with him to see the dragon, and the Mercian has been ecstatic at the idea of seeing a real dragon with his own eyes — that is also how Louis learned that Niall is actually about two years older than him, minus the two years where he was, well, _dead_ , and thus could not really know a world before the Purge — but he is a lot less ecstatic at the idea of jumping from a window, evidently.

Unfortunately, since neither of them was successful in trying to decrypt the letter back in the library, they had no other choice here.

“Come on, it really is not that high, you risk a broken ankle at best and I can heal that easily,” Louis comments as he looks down at the bushes below his tower. It is that high, actually, he just never paid attention to how high the royal chambers are before since he has always slept amongst other servants or with Stephen on the lower levels. “I’ve got a rope?”

“That flimsy thing is going to break under my weight,” Niall huffs as he points at his belly — hidden beneath his armour so Louis does not see his point.

“Well then, I have magic if you’d prefer.”

“You will drop me either way.”

“You do not know that.”

Niall only raises an eyebrow. Louis rolls his eyes. “I am allowed to have a little fun after the past few days I had alright,” he grumbles.

“Not at my expense, sorry dear.”

“I will throw you out the window myself if that is the only way we can finally get to Rùnwita before the sun rises.”

“Can you only see him at night?”

“I’m assuming he sleeps during the day,” Louis says with a pensive pout and then— _Yes I do_. The servant almost smiles upon hearing the deep voice of the dragon in his head again. In an odd way, he had missed it, amongst the other crazy things happening lately. “He sleeps during the day,” he repeats, more confidently.

“He just talked to you, huh?” Niall asks. “That must be why I can’t read your mind right now.”

“Good, now out the window you go.”

“Louis.”

“I was not joking.”

“Louis,” Niall repeats this time with more urgency.

“We do not have all night Niall, and do not scream.”

“What—”

Louis does not let him form a proper sentence as he suddenly grabs Niall’s arm, pulling him towards the window while he is still taken off guard before pushing him. He sees the way the Shade quickly covers his mouth with his hand as he falls, preventing any sound from getting out. Louis cannot help but giggle a little to himself before he promptly jumps after him.

“ _Fleoge_ ,” he murmurs, both of their falls slowing down as they approach the ground.

Louis’ feet gently meet the dirt below, seeing as he jumped while standing upright, Niall, however, who was falling face first, meets the ground with a small thud as his armour softens the fall. The sorcerer crouches down, waiting for the knight to even just turn around and when he does, it is a glare that meets him.

“I hate you,” Niall deadpans.

“You _love_ me,” Louis tuts, loving the way the other man groans and promptly gets up, absolutely not refuting the statement. “Come on, I have a spell that can hide us from the knights in the dungeon but we will have to be quiet.”

“How so? You cannot make us invisible, can you? That would be useful.”

“I can darken their line of vision temporarily.” Niall blinks at him. “What?”

“It is somehow even more impressive. You have been holding back, alright, let’s go.”

“Well, I did not have that many occasions to use my magic if I must remind you,” Louis huffs as he takes the lead, grabbing Niall’s wrist as he starts walking with intent towards the dungeon.

To their surprise, however, no one is guarding the entrance and the torch usually illuminating it is even out. Since executions are supposed to happen the very next day, Louis expected a lot more… security, to prevent any courageous prisoners from trying to escape at the last minute but he is not about to question the King’s doings — although he has been doing that for half of his life at this point.

They quietly slip into the dungeon and they briefly pass by the cell where Louis’ father used to be. Louis frowns as he notes how empty and also clean it suddenly is compared to the last time he visited his father.

“Guess I can’t talk to him tonight and will have to wait until the break of dawn,” he sighs quietly. “I will not sleep tonight, will I?”

“We could still save him last minute,” Niall whispers back, a warm hand finding itself on Louis’ shoulder. “Cause chaos and confusion and no one would suspect anything.”

“Or they would think the Druids did it, which would escalate things even further,” Louis points out with a shake of his head.

“You think too much about the safety of a kingdom that is taking your only family left away,” the Mercian says solemnly, a mixture of admiration but tiredness in his voice. “Come on, before a knight passes by.”

“I may not be fond of this kingdom, Niall, but there are innocent people here who will get caught between the petty fights,” he hurries to answer as, this time, the Shade is the one dragging him forward — as if he even knew where they were going and perhaps he did, unconsciously, what with the two of them being soul-bonded of some sort — but the conversation stops there just as they hear footsteps approaching ever so slowly, leaving enough time for Niall and Louis to hide in a corner.

If anything, those young knights are lazy, Louis thinks, refraining a snort. Most knights who fought during The Purge are now old men, some still serving the army but most having now retired in more remote lands and only making an appearance in court when festivities arise. Having grown up in a world relatively peaceful once that horrifying war ended, their descendants show little care about having proper training and honouring their family. By blood they are given the title of “knight” without them having to ever make an effort, Liam being an exception as the personal guard of the prince along with a few other selects — wherein Sir Grégoire and Sir Nicholas would be found as well. It is hard to motivate a group of young men, Louis concedes, who feel like nothing can go wrong and who do not know the realities of war as it never affected them and who would rather drink until they passed out at the tavern.

Ultimately, it would be their downfall.

The two of them wait until the knight passes by their hiding spot without ever turning his head before continuing down their path, Louis leading the walk again. For a while, they manage to advance without Louis needing to use his spell as the halls are rather large with numerous junctions that allow them to simply hide behind a wall until it is safe, but then the paths get darker and narrower as they venture further.

Louis can feel Niall’s breath starting to become ragged, nervous hands hovering over his belt and constantly tucking his hair behind his ear as if it would help him hear better if a knight were to jump on them from behind them.

Sure enough, they finally encounter someone they cannot avoid just by hiding. In fact, the man is rather tall and broad, almost taking up all the space, and unlike other knights before he is carrying a torch with him and the servant and shade promptly walk backwards, far enough before the knight’s eyes fall on their indistinctive forms.

“ _Sceadu hine wreoþ_ ,” the sorcerer whispers behind his hand as he stares at the knight ahead. Almost immediately, the man stumbles, disoriented by the sudden lack of light surrounding him and by the torch suddenly going out.

**Now, quiet.**

Somehow he can feel Niall pout behind him as they manage to slide between the wall and the big knight.

 _I understood the fifth time you shouted it in my head, yes_ , comes Niall’s irritated response.

Louis blinks. **I did that?**

_You do it unconsciously, yes._

Louis shrugs helplessly. They are close to Rùnwita anyway. Soon enough, the familiar barricaded door appears before them and Louis takes a quick look around, making sure the knight is still under his spell before he murmurs the familiar “ _Allinan_ ” and unlocks the path.

**Close it as quietly as possible behind you, put some rocks against the door, just in case**

Niall does as he is told without a fuss and they both practically run down the stony stairs before they let out a huge sigh of relief. And then Niall starts bouncing on his feet. Louis raises an eyebrow although he does not make any comment, letting the man exteriorise all his excitement.

“A dragon Louis! I’m about to meet a fucking dragon!”

Niall’s childish excitement is a breath of fresh air, truly, and Louis finds himself chuckling fondly.

“Then what are we waiting for?” Louis says, offering his hand again. The Mercian loses no time taking it and letting himself be guided, as he always is, by the small sorcerer through the different tunnels.

Louis summons a ball of light that floats ahead of them, illuminating the cave, and then the familiar edge is into view again. Rùnwita is already sitting at his rock, eyes expectant and Louis feels Niall gasp next to him, grip tightening around Louis’ hand as if to contain himself and avoid screaming.

The dragon lets his eyes roam over the new being in front of him, a small scoff escaping his mouth before he reaches forward with his head when Louis stretches an arm out to meet his palm.

“Happy to see you back, young warlock,” Rùnwita greets, eyes closing in content as he lets the sorcerer scratch the scales of his nose. “Your friend might pass out.”

Louis chuckles, sparing a glance at Niall whose eyes are open wide still. The servant wonders if he even blinked since his eyes fell on the dragon.

“He is a little overwhelmed,” Louis comments simply and it seems to be enough to snap Niall out of it who shakes his head and blushes a little. “I think you know why we are here, Rùnwita.”

The creature opens his eyes again and then— “Climb.”

Louis blinks and Niall gapes. “What?” the both of them exclaim, somehow sounding similarly breathless.

“Would you rather I hold you?” Rùnwita offers as he pulls back and offers his hand to the two men instead. It is huge and could easily hold the both of them, Louis realises all over again, and it is scary to think about how Stephen managed to trap such a powerful and gigantic creature beneath the castle and render him so defenceless.

Riding on Rùnwita’s back sounds more fun, though.

“First, what do you want to show us? Because I came here for you to help me read a letter, and some information about other magical creatures,” the sorcerer asks, stopping Niall from immediately jumping on the dragon’s hand without a thought.

It truly is like taking care of a child, at times.

Niall punches him in the arm. That will teach him to always tune in his thoughts.

“You want to know more about the Triple Goddess and your possible origins as well, right?” Rùnwita says and Louis nods. “Well then, she… left something in my cave.”

“Your cave?” Niall asks.

The dragon suddenly startles, as if only now remembering there is another human being standing before him.

“I do not sleep on these rocks, how uncomfortable is that,” Rùnwita huffs as he reaches forward with his hand again, “Hand or back.”

“Back,” Louis answers immediately, “so I make sure you do not drop Niall.”

Niall gapes at him in offence while the dragon lets out a small laugh.

“You think very lowly of me, Louis.”

“Merely teasing, even dragons are not spared,” Louis quips as he jumps into Rùnwita’s hand, prompting Niall to follow. The creature wastes no time and brings his hand close to his back, allowing the two humans to settle there.

“Just to be sure, if I hold on to your scales it won’t hurt you, right?” Niall asks as he nervously puts his hands on them, a shiver running down his body at the unfamiliar feeling.

“No, do not worry, young shade.”

“How…”

“It is a long story,” Louis cuts him off. He then scoots forward a bit so he leans against the dragon’s nape, scratching the scales there and making Rùnwita hum in content. “Let’s go.”

Instantly, the dragon spreads his wings out and then jumps off the rocks, chains clashing together at the sudden movement. Louis gasps, holding onto the creature’s neck while he can feel, in another part of his heart, Niall’s pure excitement, fear completely overshadowed by amazement as they fly through the cave, avoiding rocks and stalactites. Louis cannot decipher anything so he assumes Rùnwita’s vision allows him to be able to see in the dark or he has just grown used to the lack of light after twenty years trapped under the castle.

The flying ends shortly as they approach an opening in one of the walls illuminated in an odd blue light. As Rùnwita dives right into that entrance, Louis quickly understands that the peculiar light is produced by blue flames somehow all around the crevice. Rùnwita lowers his head so Louis can easily slide off him while Niall simply jumps from where he was, landing quite loudly on the shaky ground. It seems unstable, Louis notes, before his eyes catch something in a corner, bundled up in a pile of what seems to be hay, somehow.

And then he gasps.

“That is an egg,” he states, pure confusion dripping in his voice, “have I been misgendering you this whole time?!”

Rùnwita actually chuckles. “No no, I am a male dragon, hence why I was surprised when I awoke one night and saw this little thing next to me.” As he speaks, the dragon slowly crawls up to the egg. “Dragons’ eggs can take up to five months to hatch.”

“And why and how is it here?” Niall asks.

“The Triple Goddess must have put it there, there is no other explanation, truly, dragons are supposed to be extinct in Albion with me as the only exception,” Rùnwita says as Louis carefully approaches the nest. “She, or at least the Druids, must have put other eggs all around Camelot, waiting to be hatched if the kingdom does not allow magic back into its territory before they come to life. Baby dragons, without guidance or their mother, will destroy anything in their path as soon as they get hungry.”

“They sent Niall to kill the King though, should we not expect something similar instead of this?” the sorcerer points out as he rests a hand on the egg, feeling warmth radiate against his palm. Somehow, he can feel the small creature breathe under the shell.

“They must have realised how useless it would be to kill the source of the problem when his actions and rules now have transpired in the way a huge chunk of the people feel about magic,” Niall replies then before the dragon could take a guess. “You told me yourself, if their King is killed by magic, it would only fuel their hatred for it and peace will not be restored and even if Prince Harry does not share the same views, if he goes against the people they will surely organise a coup.”

“War will not accomplish peace either,” Louis points out.

“That is where you are wrong, young warlock,” Rùnwita interrupts, “the Druids do not seek war. They seek complete destruction of Camelot who does not stand a chance. Camelot killed the dragon’s race and it is only fitting for the dragons to burn the kingdom down in order to start anew. In order to restore the balance.”

Louis frowns, remaining silent for a couple of minutes as Niall makes his way towards the nest as well, eyes wide and fascinated. The servant ends up sighing as he straightens his back and takes the letter out of his pocket.

He should have taken the sword with him now that he thinks about it but Harry had hidden it in his chambers.

“Yet my father and this druid— Charlotte, left us a powerful sword and a letter with it,” he says as he opens the letter and presents it to Rùnwita who squints his eyes, trying to decipher the tiny handwriting. “If Camelot is doomed to fall, why… why leave us what appears to be a sign of hope?”

“To find who will be worthy of founding the new kingdom that will arise,” the dragon says, blinking his eyes and seemingly shaking his head. “The letter contains a spell that would unlock the sword’s true potential once you have found a worthy wielder, a mission given by the High Priestess herself.” Louis frowns at that. Charlotte is a High Priestess? She looks like she is barely a teenager... “However, I believe you already found the one but— Prince Harry is not ready yet. He is too indecisive. Too influenced, scared, might I say, of his father still.”

“I thought I was supposed to bring Camelot’s glory back though, not let it fall completely.”

“You can still save it,” Niall speaks up, “ _we_ can still do something... if you manage to unlock Excalibur’s power before then, the sword will surely help! We have five months, right? And the Triple Goddess and Druids surely are watching, there must be a reason they still haven't attacked yet. They hate the idea of killing lives, of killing innocents, at least the Druids do, I cannot say much about The Triple Goddess but- this is the last resort.”

“Your friend is a wise one,” the dragon comments, “when he wants to be.” Louis snorts.

“Did I just get insulted by a fucking dragon?” the Mercian deadpans as he throws an unimpressed glance at the dragon.

“Anyway,” Louis says again, trying to hold back another laugh upon seeing the two others having a staring contest. “What is the spell? Can you just tell me, I will remember it once I hear it."

A long silence follows as Rùnwita seems to assess if telling him the spell now is a good idea or not.

“I mean no offence, but you will need to train your magic more. The spell is not dark magic but it is complicated and if you cast it now, I doubt anything will happen,” the dragon finally says.

“The fact I am still standing and alive is enough of a testament he can do it, isn’t it?” Niall jumps in, looking at the creature for approval. Rùnwita squints his eyes, thinking.

“Train on ordinary swords first before casting the spell on Excalibur,” is the dragon’s final verdict. “Linking two souls together is impressive, especially since Niall is a Shade and technically soulless but you are not the one who brought him back to life. Soulbonding is not dark magic.”

“What’s the spell?” Louis repeats, just slightly more annoyed now.

A small sigh. “ _Bregdan anweald gafeluc_.”

“Bring power to the sword?” Louis translates mindlessly. “That’s it? It’s so literal.”

“You can understand the Old Language but you can’t read or speak it?” Niall questions. “That’s useless.”

“I know, thank you, Niall,” Louis huffs as he repeats the spell in his mind for a few seconds before nodding to himself. “It sounds simple enough.”

“There is also the spell to free me from the chains,” Rùnwita says next as he looks down at the ones encircling his hind legs. “ _Ic bebeode þisne sweord þæt hé forcierfe þá bende þæra dracan. Un clýse_.”

Louis squints. “ _I command that this sword break the chains of the last dragon. Open_. These spells are quite literal. I am guessing I will be needing to unlock the sword’s power first.”

Rùnwita nods. “Hence the training needed.”

Close. He is so close to solving at least one problem in the endless list of duties that have piled up on his shoulders and he can just feel Rùnwita’s hopeful eyes on him, desperate to be let free again. He can do this, he can start to restore magic into Camelot and the first step is to save the last dragon alive.

Rùnwita seems to be smiling as he lowers his head to the ground next to Louis, completely lying there. The sorcerer blinks at him for a few instants before he reaches forward and starts petting his nose.

“I trust you, young one.”

And then Louis suddenly feels an added weight on his back and a quick look over his shoulder reveals to him that Niall is unceremoniously leaning against him with his arms crossed.

“First a dead guy now a dragon and next a whole kingdom? Destiny won’t let you rest my poor Lou,” the Mercian comments.

Louis huffs out a smile. “All that and I could not save my own family, though.”

Almost as soon as the words leave his mouth, Rùnwita suddenly flinches and then stands up again. It startles Louis enough that both he and Niall lose balance but the dragon catches them in his hand before they could meet the ground.

“W—What is happening Rùnwita?” Louis asks as the dragon brings his hand closer to his head and the two humans confusedly climb there.

“I think you will want to know what is happening up there.”

Louis and Niall share a confused look but they do not get to question Rùnwita furthermore as the latter immediately takes flight without a warning and Louis almost falls if it was not for Niall grabbing him at the last second.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

The dungeon is eerily quiet and dark as they walk back on their steps, most prisoners asleep or facing away from the bars keeping them away from the free world. Louis’ heart feels heavy and he is not sure if it’s his own instincts expecting the worse or Rùnwita’s sudden gloomy mood still lingering in his head.

They do not meet any knights on their way out and Niall even makes the remark that all torches have been either extinguished on the walls or discarded on the ground. As they approach the entrance without any incident, Louis debates if they should explore the dungeon a little more to find what Rùnwita was so worried about but as they exit the dungeon, Louis and Niall find themselves in the middle of knights carrying a suspicious covered body on what seems to be way too small cart while Harry and Liam stand on the side, looking rather torn.

Louis catches the prince’s eyes who blinks, surprised to see him there, surely, before he looks down on the body and his breath catches as the sheet covering the body moves ever so slightly, revealing a familiar bruised hand Louis had held many times before.

Everything seems to stop momentarily as the prince and his guard run up to him at the same time he feels Niall catch his arm as if to bring him back to the present. His eyes remain firmly on the poorly hidden body as if it would somehow move again if he stared long enough.

He does not register hands coming up to his face, holding him gently until Harry’s voice rings in his ears.

“Louis what are you doing out—” The servant snaps immediately, suddenly lifting his head to meet the sorrow in Harry’s eyes, startling the latter enough to jump back and let go of him.

“Why is my father dead on the ground?” Louis cuts him off in a low yet loud enough voice, completely ignoring the collective gasp of shock the knights let out around them as he stares at the prince. “Harry, what happened?”

“Louis, it was an accident—” Liam starts.

“Liam, by the _Triple Goddess_ I love you but I’m not talking to you!” The knight immediately stops on his tracks, eyes wide at the servant’s outburst.

“I… love you too,” Liam ends up saying anyway in the confusion while Harry sighs deeply.

“We should talk elsewhere,” the prince reckons as he attempts to get closer to Louis again but the servant flinches a little, holding on to Niall instead. “What were you even doing here, if any of my knights had seen you… I do not want to imagine what could have happened,” he continues nevertheless despite the disgruntled frown now creasing his forehead.

Louis blinks, breathing in deeply as he sees from the corner of his eyes the knights dragging the body, his _father’s_ body, away, at a more hurried pace. As if they were afraid of him and his tempter. He almost wants to laugh but he sort of feels numb right now. He takes a shaky breath, looking up at Harry again.

“I—” he gulps. “I wanted to talk one last time with him…” he whispers, “because I knew I would not be able to watch the execution tomorrow.”

It is a believable lie — and not quite a lie either.

“Love, you might need to sit down,” Niall prompts, “Prince Harry is right we should talk elsewhere.”

 _So you do not faint like at the cottage_. Louis glares at him a little for that comment but gets immediately distracted when Harry is close to him again.

“Come here,” he hears him say before arms suddenly lift him up, one beneath his knees and the other around his back. He yelps as the prince immediately starts walking, ignoring the curious gazes of the knights around. Both Niall and Liam share a confused look before following suit.

“Harry what are you doing?!” People are going to talk, again, and gossiping about his status as the royal servant is the last thing Louis needs at the moment.

“Liam and I wanted to free him, but something went wrong and he decided to pretend he attacked us to try to escape on his own so Liam would not be suspected of treason as well, he ended up ending his own life instead of letting himself be captured again,” Harry whispers as he clutches Louis closer to him, mouth directly at his ear. Louis gasps quietly, heart pounding again as he plays the scene in his head — this feels conflicting, but it is exactly how he expected his father to go down — with a fight. That is the fierce man he knows instead of the compliant one he had last seen. He sighs just as he feels a small sob shake Harry’s body. “I’m so fucking sorry, Louis.”

The prince is still walking quickly, now through the empty halls of the castle, his grip as he holds Louis close to him not faltering at all. The servant is not sure if Niall and Liam are still following them but he could not care less at the moment as he hesitantly looks up at Harry and sees a hint of tears shining in his eyes.

Slowly, he wraps his arms around Harry’s neck, breathing in deep as he feels the prince tense a little, unsure, as his pace slows down.

He does not cry that night as Harry asks him to stay in his chambers. The prince does, even as he tries to hide while he holds Louis.

He still feels numb. He prepared himself for the outcome of Oìstin dying but not quite like this and now he is lost. He wants to scream and cry but nothing comes out as he stares at the luxurious ceiling only partly discernable thanks to the moon’s light.

He expects the next day to hurt far more. His eyes catch Excalibur just slightly peeking out from under the bed and he sighs.

Does he even have time to feel? Time is ticking.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel bad for leaving y'all on this, I won't lie, but oh well, see you in two weeks heheh x


	7. Familiar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis and Harry learn more about the Old Religion and the Triple Goddess as they leave Camelot along with the rest of the group for Ealdor in search for the truth about the beginning of The Purge. Little did they know, someone in the village has been searching for Louis as well. A familiar voice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> how is everyone doing? me? im crawlig under a pile of uni work, not gonna lie. ironically enough despite the longer pause between chapters i didn't really manage to catch up on my writing schedule (worse, i got more ideas for other wips, and starting writing them lol) but anyway! this is one of my favourite chapters! some more revelations and new aspects of the world of Albion and a new character im sure some of you have been waiting for a while, so yeah :]
> 
> [Tumblr Post](https://lwtisloved.tumblr.com/post/640491465750003712/truth-behind-golden-eyes-by-myenglishrose-a) ¦¦ [Twitter Post](https://twitter.com/darlinlou/status/1350504077084520450?s=20)  
> Good reading x

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Whispers arise. They are not new occurrences, even as a child, maids and servants used to gossip about how odd his and the prince’s friendship was. It was easier to ignore, however, or perhaps they have forgotten how to be more discreet over time or Louis simply forgot how annoying they could be.

One thing he gathers, however, amongst the many murmurs about him, is how worried the people in the castle are about the prince finding a future queen if he is so obsessed with a simple servant and to that Louis wants to huff. In the middle of heartless executions and the imminent threat of wars, that is what they decide to focus on? Or perhaps these useless whispers are a distraction from the current desolate situation the kingdom is in. Louis truly does not understand, nor cares to understand. Harry, on the other hand, does not seem to mind, as he keeps his head held up high while they walk through the castle, slowly settling back into the routine they had before Oìstin’s death, just perhaps a little closer than they used to be.

Louis lets out a long sigh as he looks around the empty house he used to find refuge in as a small child, overwhelmed by the castle’s atmosphere. He vaguely registers the sounds of Sir Grégoire searching in the various books Oìstin left behind, Liam cleaning up the various weapons the man had in his small workshop and Niall helping him while Louis stands in his father’s bedroom, Harry by his side, looking down at a still unmade bed and scattered clothes on the floor. It has been a full week since the executions and life has been surprisingly peaceful with no sign of the Druids. Oìstin’s belongings had been left untouched, so much so that the place still feels _alive_.

“I don’t know if I can do this…” he whispers weakly, looking up at Harry who wears a conflicting expression as well.

They have to clear up the house in case they can find more pieces of evidence that Oìstin communicated with the Druids that could be useful for the King, but the knowledge that it would be like turning a page and letting a part of his father disappear even more does not sit well with Louis. He technically inherits the house, but with his father gone and with his status of a simple servant, despite being an adult, the royal family gets to decide what to do with the house and Louis has no doubt the King is simply going to replace Oìstin’s role as the main royal blacksmith with someone else — he just has to decide who could possibly be worthy of the title as his father’s craftsmanship was like no other and he left behind almost nothing when it comes to his technics, keeping everything in his head. Not even Louis knows much about the alloys he used.

“You do not have to but I am afraid if I ask other knights to clean up instead they might throw away something you would have preferred to keep.”

At that, Louis clutches his hand with the ring against his chest with a shuddering breath. He struggles to see what he would even want, really. He has the ring, he has the dagger and technically he also has Excalibur now to remember him by — as if he could ever forget him, in the first place.

“Alright… Alright.”

His fingertips tingle, the temptation to just pronounce one spell and get it over with right there but he snaps out of it when Harry rests a hand on his shoulder.

“Do you mind if… if I keep something as well?” the prince asks, eyes falling on a peculiar box by the window. Louis follows his line of vision and knows the box contains some rings his father liked to create from time to time with the metal left from his experiments when he was trying to find stronger alloys.

“I am sure my father would not mind,” the servant responds with a little smile as he skips over the window and grabs the box and opens it, indeed revealing various silver rings, and a few golden ones. None of them has any stone despite having a shaped hole in the middle, most of them are simple bands with intricate designs engraved on them. He picks a silver one as Harry approaches, curious. “Most of these are my size or my mother’s, I think…”

“Let me see,” the prince says simply as he picks a golden band and then carefully grabs Louis’ hand. The servant startles slightly, letting go of the ring he was just holding a second ago as Harry effortlessly slips the ring on the finger next to his mother’s ring. Louis’ breath catches in his throat as he observes the fond look on Harry’s face.

 _No_. No, he is imagining things. Bloody maids who cannot shut their mouths.

“It fits you perfectly,” Harry remarks then as he picks another ring, slightly bigger but silver this time. Oddly enough, it seems to match Louis’ one with its feathery design wrapped around the band. “They might be a bit small for me,” he says as he, with little difficulty, slips the ring on his index finger. “Well, I hope it’s not stuck now.”

Louis chuckles softly as he closes the box. “I can… readjust it if you’d like,” he offers.

Harry’s eyes seem to light up upon hearing this. “Oh right, you do know some metallurgy. My little servant is really good at everything, huh?”

 _Playing an instrument is not my forte_ comes to his mind but for some reason, his voice is stuck in his throat and only an unintelligible babble passes his lips. Instead, he blushes. Or at least he is pretty sure he is blushing now so he huffs and bypasses the prince to put the little box with the pile of other items they have collected they intend to keep. When he turns around again, Harry is busying himself going through the dresser, obviously only finding Oìstin’s old clothes.

Louis gathers they will not find much else in the bedroom and hopes the knights will be luckier — or not. He is still conflicted. In the past week, the remaining blacksmiths have tried to recreate the metal arrow Sir Grégoire had brought back from their encounter with the Druids at the cottage but to no avail. The arrows were always too heavy somehow. Or perhaps their bows are not strong enough.

“Your… your clothes as a child are here,” Harry says suddenly and that makes Louis jump on his feet, cheeks reddening all over again. “Tiny,” the prince grins as he holds up a small shirt.

Louis groans. “My Prince, we are wasting time,” he says, although it is refreshing to see the other man be this… happy, really. Bouncy curls and flashy smile — he looks younger, Louis notices, _livelier_. Or perhaps it is a facade again after everything that has happened. Louis hopes it is not.

“Wasting time?” Harry repeats with a fake outraged look. “I believe all of this is very important information.”

“Harry…” it almost sounds like a whine. Almost. The prince chuckles, putting the clothes back in the dresser.

“If you would like you can simply wait outside while I finish this room instead?” the older boy offers. “Or help Sir Grégoire, I suppose, he must be crawling under the books.”

There is a hint of annoyance in his voice as he pronounces the knight’s name and Louis tries not to laugh. This feels familiar again, he has heard that tone of voice before, the only difference is that it was directed at Liam.

“My father did not have that many books,” Louis replies. “But I suppose I could help him instead of just waiting. I am the servant, the King would probably have my head if he knew you are doing all the work here.”

“Do not say that,” the prince says curtly, startling Louis at the sudden mood change. Harry is still facing away from him but Louis can see the tension in his shoulders. “Just— I swear to you he will never hurt or use you again, I will make sure of that.”

“It is a nice thought but I really doubt—”

Harry turns around then, fire in his green eyes as he looks directly at Louis. “He will never take you away from me again, do you hear me?” Louis just nods, blinking. “I don’t know how many times I have to tell you this until you start believing I will follow my own words.”

Louis inhales for a second as he looks down. “You said the same for my dad and you could not save him.”

He hates it. He hates breaking the light-hearted moment they were having but they have to face it — promises mean nothing in this world. The King decides. The Triple Goddess decides. He hears Harry let out a small groan before footsteps approach. And then Harry’s hand comes up to his chin, holding it up and Louis does not resist, following the movement and meeting Harry’s eyes again. Harry leans down then, pressing their foreheads together.

“You and me against the world, remember?” the prince softly reminds him and it makes Louis smile a little. “If I ever have to choose between you and this godforsaken kingdom, I would pick you in a heartbeat if it was not evident enough.”

Louis gasps as their breaths mingle and his fingertips start to itch again. _Tell him_ , a voice in his head resonates. It is not Niall’s nor Rùnwita’s. _Tell him about your magic_.

“Har—”

He stops himself when he feels Harry’s other hand reach down to hold one of his, fingers intertwining while they keep their eye contact. His breath hitches when he notices Harry’s eyes flicker down to his lips for a moment. He thinks he hears him whisper “can I?” and Louis is a little confused but he nods, the warmth in his fingertips and his stomach intensifying.

A kiss. He really wants a kiss, he realises, as Harry starts to lean in. He is not sure what to do though as he hears his heart beating loudly in his head and for a split second, he wonders if Niall can feel all of it as well however his mind goes blank when lips brush his. It is barely a contact, a shy attempt at testing the water, and Louis gasps when he feels Harry’s grip tighten around his hand even as he pulls back for a moment.

The prince looks breathless as well. Louis tentatively goes on his tiptoes, needing a proper taste as well while Harry seems ready to dive in again, with more intent this time but then loud footsteps break the silence followed by a “Louis!” and the latter jumps back just as Sir Grégoire appears at the door.

He does not get to go too far, though, because Harry is still gripping his hand and although Louis cannot see him anymore, his attention on the knight instead, he can just feel annoyance radiating from the prince.

Sir Grégoire looks like he is trying to hide a smile as he, for a couple of seconds, looks at them as if to assess the situation. “I apologise for interrupting, My Prince,” he says eventually, sounding rather amused instead and only getting a grunt in response, “but I need to borrow your servant for a short moment. I believe Niall and Sir Liam are almost done with the workshop as well.”

Harry sighs as he lets go of Louis’ hand, finally. “I was telling him to go help you anyway, have you found anything?” Louis tries not to pout at the way he is being talked about like he is not here again but at this point, it is on him for not getting used to it, really.

“Not anything that could interest us, but I did find some things like this that Louis might want,” as he says so, the knight approaches, carefully taking a piece of paper from behind his back and handing it to Louis.

The servant frowns as he carefully unfolds it. He hears Harry’s gasp as he does so and Louis’ heart starts pounding again. For a whole other reason this time.

It is a drawing. Of a woman — his mother, surely — holding him as a baby. Of course Oìstin also knew how to draw if he could do it on a piece of metal but for some reason, the revelation _hurts_ him. He spent so much time away from his father while growing up and he was finally getting to know him a little more through their training sessions now as an adult but, of course, it had to be taken away from him as well.

Louis draws in a shaky breath as he inspects every detail of the woman’s face. If the portrait is anything close to accurate, Louis knows he has inherited the shape of her eyes and her nose. And as he looks closer — he sees the perfect reflection of Charlotte, just older.

_Mother has been waiting for you. Brother please._

He holds back tears as he looks at Sir Grégoire’s sympathetic smile. “Show me where the others are, please.”

The knight nods. “Of course.”

“I will finish here and join you afterwards, I don’t think I will find anything else other than personal belongings so it will be quick,” Harry informs them. He looks at Louis who smiles tentatively. They are both blushing. “Um, yeah, I— go,” he stutters.

Louis holds back a chuckle but then he sees Sir Grégoire smile a little too big as he grabs Louis’ hand gently. “Do not worry Your Highness, I will take care of him, it is the duty you have given me after all.”

And then he does not wait for an answer and immediately starts walking away, Louis on his tail. The servant huffs because as soon as they are out of sight, the knight drops his hand and lets out a laugh.

“Was that really necessary, Sir Grégoire?” he asks as they make their way towards the small library by the living room.

“It is refreshing to see the prince admitting he cares for you at last. The knights and I have been wondering if it would have taken Sir Nicholas trying to sleep with you again for prince Harry to snap,” the knight admits. All Louis gets from that is that knights are as nosey as maids, apparently. “Teasing him is quite amusing and lifts the atmosphere up, don’t you think, lovely Lou?”

“Lovely Lou?” Louis repeats.

“That is how he calls you when he is drunk, amongst many things,” Sir Grégoire grins back suggestively as he grabs a seemingly normal book from a shelf and presents it to him. “I think it is cute. Do you like it?”

He _loves_ it. It sounds like something Harry would call him when they were children. He does not reply, biting a smile as he focuses his gaze on the book instead. Well— it is actually a notebook, he notices now as he carefully caresses the leather cover.

He opens it, being met with countless drawings. Most are of animals or sketches of his mother. He sighs as he looks at Sir Grégoire’s easy smile as he goes through the shelves again. Sometimes he wishes he could be this carefree as well. He wishes he could just focus on pointless gossip and participate in teasing Harry — although he does that as well at times. He wishes he could stop to think about his own butterflies in his stomach and the way his magic still appears to act up when he is alone with Harry.

But he has more important things to worry about. Finding this woman who is supposed to be his mother is one of them.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Ever since Louis was moved to the castle and out of Stephen’s house, he has not talked to the physician a lot, despite the fact he is also supposed to be his assistant. He liked it better that way anyway, after everything he has learned and knowing the old man actively participated in killing the dragons and capturing Rùnwita and now has just let his father die. The idea of just facing him brought him to such discomfort.

Unfortunately, outside of Niall and Rùnwita, he is also the only other person who knows about Louis’ magic and has a vague understanding of the whole picture… of Louis’ situation. And who is doing nothing. He cannot believe the fact he ever considered this man a father figure for a while.

“You could have saved him,” is the only thing Louis says as he barges into Stephen’s house, in a surprisingly calm voice… but slamming the door against the wall as he enters.

The old man was cooking, it seems, and almost spills the stew he was preparing as he slowly turns around and smiles that welcoming smile of his. Louis does not falter.

“Louis, what a surprise, you have not visited in a while, will you be staying with me for lunch?”

“So you are just going to ignore everything that happened.”

“I am afraid I don’t know what you mean.”

“I used to think my father was a coward for never standing up against the King after he had to basically give up his life with my mother, but he wasn’t.” Stephen finally frowns and Louis internally rejoices for finally breaking that fake gentle facade. “He was secretly fighting for so long for what he believed in, for _me_. _You_ are the real coward.”

“You do not get to talk to me like that, young man,” Stephen threatens, putting away the stew as he takes a few steps forward, arms crossed.

Louis wants to laugh. “Or what? You are powerless against me! You gave up your magic for that King of yours!”

“And I can denounce you in a heartbeat,” the physician reminds him. And alright, Louis forgot about that part but he needs to show no weakness so he fakes a confident smile.

“Would you? Would you do something that low? Though I guess it would be in character considering how you betrayed your own kind with little to no remorse,” Louis challenges then, revelling in the slight flicker of doubt appearing in the old man’s eyes. “Do not be foolish, Stephen, you and I both know Camelot does not stand a chance against the Druids.”

“Oìstin was guilty and you cannot blame me for his death, Louis.”

Oh, shifting topics. Louis swallows, straightening his back. “I was not, I was just saying you could have done something.”

“Harry could not, what do you think I could do?”

“At least Harry tried. I never expected him to, but he did,” Louis reasons.

“Personal relations should have nothing to do with the kingdom’s prosperity.”

“That’s rich coming from you!” Louis yells out. “You are the King’s closest advisor, you, of all people, should have known that my father’s death would only be detrimental for this kingdom. You stabbed a sword into your own leg by getting rid of my father and you know that. But you failed to mention that when the King had a _personal_ conflict with my father and wanted him _personally_ dead! Because, what, he reminded him of Queen Anne? And you still held a grudge against my father? It is _pathetic_ , is what it is.”

He vaguely registers objects suddenly levitating around him as he speaks, Stephen’s demeanour shifting from defensive to worried as he looks around but Louis could not care less at the moment.

“Louis calm down—”

“This whole fucking war against magic is because of personal relations!” the servant continues, making a step forward just as the physician takes a step back as more objects start to float. But then he takes a deep breath and everything suddenly drops, creating a mess within the hubbub. Stephen flinches but Louis barely moves. “Rùnwita was right, you have been blinded by your love for the King, how terrible must it feel to know he would want you dead if you thought for yourself for one second the same way he turned against my father so easily.”

The physician’s eyes darken as he raises an eyebrow. “You know of the last dragon.” It is not a question, of course it is not.

“I had to get some guidance somewhere for my magic, I could not trust you, clearly. You promised to protect me and then just stood there, so thank you for that,” Louis huffs, voice dripping with pure sarcasm and it feels oddly relieving, therapeutic, to let out this part of himself.

“You fool, that creature is manipulating you. All it wants is to be free only to attack Camelot and kill us all.”

Louis shrugs, adding in a sly smile. “Perhaps I would let him.”

“Louis.”

“No matter how many times you say my name in a condescending tone, I am not a child anymore, I will not bow down to you,” the servant huffs as he kicks a pot at his feet, watching it fly over the room only to break against a wall. Alright, that was just petty of him but he needed it. “I will protect the innocent caught in this stupid war with my life and I know Harry and Gemma will help as much as they can, but do not expect me to pity you and the King and everyone involved here. I regret the day I ever called you a father.”

Finally, _finally_ , there is a hint of sorrow in the old man’s eyes as he tries to reach forward but Louis shakes his head and immediately turns around and leaves, ignoring the call for his name, in a much familiar, warming voice.

He lets out a groan once he slams the door behind him then looks around, hoping no one saw. Sir Nicholas is there, standing just a couple of meters away like Louis requested since the knight was not allowed to leave him out of his sight completely. He sighs, relieved, though he is still not that used to having a personal guard. And to be frankly honest, he has grown to prefer Sir Grégoire, if he really had to choose between the two knights.

**Niall, are you at the Rising Sun?**

The answer comes almost immediately.

_Already have a tankard and some food waiting for you, dear._

Louis smiles. He waves Sir Nicholas over and the knight raises an eyebrow.

“It sounded heated in there, I don’t mean to intrude but I thought he was sort of your substitute father?” the taller man comments.

“Yeah, I thought so too,” Louis sighs as he grabs the knight’s arm and tugs him forward, not letting the latter any time to respond to that. He does not need to lay out his family problem to yet another person. “I want to join Niall at the Rising Sun, I suppose you are coming along.”

“I do wonder how you two somehow always know where the other is,” Sir Nicholas says with a touch of suspicion in his voice.

“Mm, we just know each other pretty well by now,” Louis replies simply.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

The Rising Sun has become his only place of solace lately. Sir Grégoire and Sir Nicholas loosen up there, forgetting all about their duty to guard Louis as they get distracted by drinks and, well, women. The servant almost smiles as he watches the scene, a flustered Sir Grégoire trying to reciprocate flirting while Sir Nicholas basks in the attention these women are giving him. They are all locals since visitors have been very sparse as well due to Camelot’s borders being reinforced. Louis suspects they will lift off the restrictions soon enough now that the Druids seem to have vanished and he knows that spring is approaching, which means that Lady Gemma’s birthday is coming up as well and as per tradition, a big ceremony will be organised.

It is of course to find her a suitor but as per her promise to him and Harry when they were younger, she has successfully denied everyone and for some reason, the King is somehow kind enough to not put her through an arranged marriage.

So perhaps that man still has a heart somewhere. Louis is not so sure.

“So, what is the plan now?” Niall’s voice brings him back to the present. “Are you sure we should seek out your mother?”

At that, Louis frowns and looks down at his hands, his mother’s ring shining dully against the bright gold of the ring Harry had put on his finger next to it — which he simply forgot to remove and he probably won’t remove now, already attached to it. He almost wants to chuck the lily ring away now, what once used to be a token of wonder and admiration appears now to be a source of pure frustration. He is not even sure he wants to unlock that damn message inside the tiny piece of jewellery when he is so close to finding her in person… knowing she could just come to him as Charlotte has. What is stopping her?

“I need answers, I deserve some as her son,” he answers eventually.

“But you don’t consider her your mother, do you? You resent her.”

Louis doesn’t reply, downing his beer in one go and basically answering the question with this simple action. He feels Niall’s worried eyes linger for another couple of seconds on him before the knight stands up, to fetch another drink, the servant guesses. Louis sighs, the shouts and singings all over the tavern slowly giving him a headache. To be truthful, no he doesn’t want to see his mother. He doesn’t want to see the reason he ended up in this mess, or as the King would call it, _cursed_ with this incurable sickness. He doesn’t want to see the reason his father is dead now. But he has to. He needs answers, he needs closure. Especially after the way his whole image of Stephen has been shifted permanently and the man has not even bothered to comfort him after Oìstin’s death… He needs a _family_.

“Louis!” a voice calls, startling him and almost making him fall from his chair. “Here you are!”

The whole place immediately falls silent as people recognise the voice without any issue. Louis curses in his head as he turns around, meeting forest green eyes.

“My Prince, I thought I had the day free.”

Just as he says those words, Niall comes back as well, joyful as ever and humming under his breath. It appears loud to Louis’ ears amongst the sudden silence — and stares — surrounding them. The prince frowns when the knight throws an arm around Louis’ shoulder and just waves at the royal.

“You had,” Harry confirms, sending a tired look Niall’s way before focusing back on Louis, “but I thought you would like to know that my Father is allowing us to spend a few days away in Ealdor. Aelith has requested our— well, _your_ presence.”

Louis frowns. “And he is just letting us go?”

Harry sighs with a small smile. “I know, he is surely planning something but I gathered you needed the break and Aelith misses you. So how does it sound?”

“It would be a much-deserved break,” Niall comments as well, whispering it directly in Louis’ ear.

_And Mercia is a safer place for you to train your magic._

At that, Louis perks up, ignoring Harry’s curious frown at their silent communication. It is true. He cannot allow himself a break, but it would be a great excuse to disappear and train his magic instead. Ever since he cast that spell linking his and Niall’s souls together, his magic seemed to finally settle down but now it is acting up again around Harry — or when he is particularly angry, it seems — and he needs to release all of it somehow.

“Are Sir Grégoire and Sir Nicholas coming, then?” he asks, eyeing the two knights in the distance who seem just as focused on the conversation.

“They are,” Harry confirms as he looks at them as well, beckoning them closer. The two knights waste no time though stumbling a little on their way, proof of their slight inebriety. “We are leaving tomorrow morning so be sure to prepare for at least a week of travel. Mercia is more liberal about magic and I know I can trust you two and Liam after the encounter with the Druids. Will you take your servant with you?”

Louis startles a little at that — he forgot that each of the knights does have servants of their own in their own household. It must have slipped his mind that a servant is not necessarily required to follow their master everywhere like he is. No wonder whispers have arisen.

“My mother has been feeling sick so I asked Tahlia to always stay by her side, so no,” Sir Grégoire answers.

“Mine would be more useful here looking after the house than out there in the wild, I’m afraid he would pass out at the sight of a deer, so no as well,” Sir Nicholas adds on. “Besides we have little Louis over here, don’t we?”

The prince frowns for a second before willing his face into a neutral expression again. He probably can’t concretely say this whole “vacation” is technically for the servant to their faces, Louis guesses.

“It does not mean I will let you boss me around,” Louis huffs, sending a challenging look Sir Nicholas’ way who chuckles, seemingly delighted at the idea.

“I sure hope so, otherwise what is the fun of keeping an eye on you?” the knight grins back and looks like he is about to add something else before Harry speaks up again.

“It does not mean we can stop being vigilant,” the prince says, making Louis quirk an eyebrow because the sudden official tone is quite jarring. “Niall, you know Mercia quite well, don’t you?”

Visibly surprised at being addressed, Niall startles and nods with a perplexed expression. “I do, but I thought we were only going to Ealdor.”

“That is our destination,” Harry confirms, meeting Louis’ eyes for a brief second, “but if you happen to know where one of the places for prayers of the Triple Goddess is, we will need to stop by for a moment.”

“Oh. Should we really be talking about this in here?” the Mercian points out, vaguely gesturing towards the quiet tavern. People are still looking, whispering. It makes Louis feel quite uneasy.

“We will discuss further tomorrow,” the prince simply answers. “Louis, Gemma has requested your help as well and she wants you to stay with her for the rest of the evening.”

Louis nods immediately. “Is she not coming?”

Harry shakes his head with a small frown. “Unfortunately not, she seems to have caught the same sickness that has been plaguing the town.” The servant frowns at that — there is an epidemic going around? The flu, perhaps, the weather is getting colder indeed. It feels oddly convenient while the druids are supposedly retreating. “She will be fine however, she has the kingdom’s best doctors at her side but she just really wants to see you, she’s in her chamber.”

And so Louis wastes no time.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Lady Gemma’s chamber is guarded by two knights who, upon his arrival, immediately open the door for him and let him through. It stuns Louis for a short moment before he shakes his head and simply heads inside without a word.

He finds Lady Gemma looking out the window, looking rather healthy although a little pale as she turns around and smiles at him.

“I would hug you but I am afraid to give you whatever sickness I caught the other night in the process,” she says, promptly followed by a small cough.

Louis simply smiles.

“I assume you won’t be joining Harry and the King for supper? That will be quite the boring meal,” he says as he goes to sit on the chair by her study while she makes her way to her own bed, careful to not step on the evening gown she is wearing despite the cheerful rays of the afternoon still shining outside. Louis figures she did not bother to change when the first signs of her sickness appeared this morning.

“You will not either, I want you to eat with me tonight, I need the company before you leave me here to die!” Lady Gemma informs him quite dramatically as she starts fanning her face with her hand. Louis rolls his eyes.

Ever since that night, Lady Gemma has also been particularly doting and affectionate with him after she revealed she was also in on the plan to help Oìstin escape, though not physically present in the dungeon. Louis knows she feels guilty, though she really has no reason to. She tried her best just like Harry and Liam did, and Louis would never fault them for failing.

He can fault Stephen though. It may be personal bias but Louis still stands by that.

“You shall bring me back flowers that do not grow on Camelot,” she continues then, crossing her legs and propping her elbow on her knee. It is quite the un-lady-like posture, Louis cannot help but think yet he smiles at the realisation Lady Gemma is simply comfortable enough around him to let herself go a little without worrying about him going on to gossip with the other servants.

“I’m afraid I do not know which ones are native to only Mercia,” he replies.

“I can lend you a book do not worry, I will ask Maïa to give it to you tomorrow morning,” Lady Gemma dismisses and Louis perks up upon hearing the maid’s name — why isn’t she here as well? Has he been the one spending an unnecessary amount of time with Harry without realising it while other servants are not really asked to be by their master’s side every second of every day? “I wish I could see a kingdom where magic is still thriving, Agrowven is like Camelot — empty and sad since the war,” she continues.

Louis hums, trying to not sound too enthusiastic at the mere idea of going back to Mercia, knowing tensions have risen since his departure he believes, well, from what he heard through word of mouth anyway. While he knows of Lady Gemma’s love for magic and her desire for things to be restored the way they were before The Purge, he refuses to let his guard down again, now half certain that the guards at the door can somehow hear them despite how lowly they are talking.

He could potentially cast a spell that would block any sound from coming out of these four walls he supposes but with how uncontrollable his magic has been all day, he should probably avoid using it just yet.

“I am quite tired of all this back and forth between the Druids and Desmond, should I plan a coup against him? It feels like the only option at this point, Harry would never dare think of that,” she says, still in this casual tone that startles Louis.

“My Lady…” he starts worryingly, earning a raised eyebrow from the older woman. “I do not want to get involved,” he ends up saying. For some reason, he has no doubt the princess could organise a proper coup, what with her incredible bond with the people and her charismatic presence. She would be a great leader… if Harry was not already set to inherit the throne, but if she actually plans on going through with her words, Louis knowing about it beforehand would land him in dangerous territory.

And he has magic for fuck’s sake. He is already in dangerous territory just by existing.

Lady Gemma giggles then, as if Louis just told an innocent joke. “It is an upsetting thought, isn’t it? I would need to learn how to fight first, though.”

“I thought you knew already?” Louis questions. “You have always been one to defy your position.”

She chuckles again, hiding it behind her hand. “That is true, unfortunately, I do actually enjoy wearing these gowns and putting these flowers in my hair, it is not all just for appearances’ sake. Something tells me that no matter what I will have to learn how to defend myself.”

“I can help with that,” Louis says before he can stop himself and finds himself stuck when Lady Gemma perks up, a big smile on her lips. So much for not getting involved two seconds ago. “I mean—”

“I knew you had something else up your sleeves!” she exclaims.

“Technically my trousers, but it sounds lewd,” he corrects as he swiftly takes his dagger out and spins it in his hand before hiding it again. Lady Gemma is gaping at him, eyes shining with something close to childish curiosity.

“You are not the only one who likes to defy their status,” the servant cannot help but brag a little upon seeing the Lady’s excitement. “We might have to tell Harry though.”

Lady Gemma’s sheepish smile suddenly turns knowing as she sends Louis this… _look_. Louis holds back a groan. _Not her too._

“So I heard the maids and knights talking—”

Fortunately, she gets interrupted by Maïa coming in, bringing some herbal medicine as well as supper, Morris following behind her quietly, bringing another tray in his hands — for Louis, surely. The servant feels a bit awkward as he thanks his fellow servants for bringing him the meal he probably should have gone and brought himself but Lady Gemma quickly dismisses them and Louis does not miss the quick side-eyes they both give him on their way out.

He internally sighs.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

They travel by carriage this time, Sir Nicholas and Sir Grégoire riding the horses while Liam, Harry, Niall, and Louis sit inside of it. At first, Louis was quite confused by the arrangement as he and Niall should be the ones leading the carriage as the most familiar with the path leading to Mercia but then it becomes quite clear why the prince isolated the two other knights when he speaks, breaking the silence.

“I have been talking with the witch in the past week,” he reveals and Louis tries to conceal his surprise while Niall openly gapes. Liam, on the other hand, does not react, probably already aware of that predicament. “And the reason we need to find a place for prayer for the Triple Goddess is so I can vow to her I want to change things around. She just forgot to tell me how I could do that so I was hoping one of you two knew a little bit more since you are more familiar with Mercia and this whole— Old Religion thing.”

As he says those words, the prince looks directly at Niall who blinks but is smiling so big as if he was waiting all his life — well, _after-life_ technically, Louis still cannot wrap his head around that fact — for this moment.

“What did she tell you, though?” Louis asks.

There is a small pause as Harry seems to evaluate the right things to say. “Not much, she implied the Triple Goddess would be willing to hear me.”

“Would she?” Niall interrupts, making all three of them frown at the doubtful tone. “Every kingdom has a place for prayers for her, however, since only the Druids still practice the Old Religion most of those places are now abandoned… or even destroyed where magic is forbidden. The ones in Camelot and Agrowven are because of King Desmond, obviously. The Triple Goddess is not exactly the forgiving one in fact she is really self-absorbed and cruel in stories and is only held back when the High Priests oppose her decisions. She created the whole land, I guess she ought to feel like that when people destroy it.”

“She created us too, according to the Old Religion then, and she chose who would have magic and who would not,” Liam points out, having done his research of his own it seems, “admittedly she is the one who brought chaos upon her own creations by creating such a divide in the first place while at the same time privileging ones who wield magic.”

Louis blinks at Liam’s perspective. Inequality. It is one way to see things but the servant does not feel like it is an adequate comparison when people with magic are quite literally not allowed to exist now in certain areas of Albion.

“But the war against magic was not started out of jealousy or a want to be equal, before that everything was fine,” Niall argues back.

“It was caused because of a heartbreak,” Harry ends, in a sombre tone.

“Then for the Triple Goddess to hear us out, it would probably be best to know why the King started The Purge. Do you know how magic was involved in the Queen’s death?” the knight suggests then.

Silence overtakes the carriage again because, Louis realises, none of them actually knows the details and Louis almost swears out loud realising he should have asked Stephen while he was still intimidating him the day before. Somehow it had completely slipped his mind — he does tend to forget many things when he gets heated in the moment.

The night before, he went to visit Rùnwita as well, mostly to vent his frustration about Stephen knowing the creature would gladly indulge him and then to ask the dragons about other magical creatures they could encounter outside of Camelot since they got interrupted the previous time. The dragon did not tell him much he didn’t already know about fairies and trolls thanks to Aelith, for example. He did learn a bit more about Sidhes, immortal blue-skinned creatures that live in the deepest parts of Brocéliande, in the middle of a small island within the Lake Of Avalon. Rùnwita called them the “masters of enchantments'' that no one can truly rival as their spells are in a different language altogether, unlike fairies who use the Old Language like the Druids. The dragon also told him they could control human beings, implanting one of their own kin into a human baby and once the person became an adult, the Sidhe would take over the control of their body and that this was their process to expand their species, basically. Similarly, they can banish one of their kind and give them a mortal body without any magic left in them.

Overall, Louis really hopes they will never have to encounter a Sidhe.

Rùnwita did mention, however, that fairies sometimes have the capacity to enamour people they first get in contact with, which coincides with Niall’s hypothesis that he might not be completely human either. But the dragon did insist on how rare but also temporary that capacity is as the effect usually fades out after a few days.

“So no one has any clue?” Niall breaks the silence and brings Louis back to the present as well, perhaps knowingly considering the side glance the Mercian throws at him as he continues speaking, “May I throw a guess without offending anyone?”

Harry actually snorts at that. “I appreciate that you ask, you may.”

“Is it possible that she used magic to make sure to have a son after struggling for many years?”

The suggestion stuns everyone into silence again, Harry going rigid while Liam brings a hand to his mouth, hiding his own reaction. Louis, on the other hand, ponders the idea with a small, pensive frown.

It would make sense— no one has ever questioned the big age gap between Lady Gemma and Harry that is rather unusual between royal children since royal couples tend to try to have as many children as possible to ensure the line of succession. Yet again, would King Desmond be driven to such desperation that he would declare war upon his own love’s kind? And wouldn’t Gemma know anything about her mother being a witch? Although… many were unaware Louis’ mother was a witch as well and from the bits and pieces he has gathered, his best bet is that Queen Anne and his mother used to know each other as well. Lady Gemma told him Oìstin and Queen Anne used to be childhood friends and then his father told him he met his mother through a mutual friend.

That mutual friend must have been Anne, somehow.

Perhaps the two women abandoned magic when they found their loved ones? Then it would make sense why no one was aware of their capabilities when they settled in Camelot. But a piece seems to be missing.

“What about her maid? The one who used to live in the room Niall and I now sleep in and who was banished,” Louis says. “Would it be tangible to think she also had a role in this?”

“Possibly…” Harry mutters. “I feel like… I feel like Niall’s theory would make more sense and my Father simply banished the maid and her son because they reminded him of Mother.”

“That would imply you are a product of magic,” Liam points, “that you—”

“Were not supposed to exist in the first place. For one life being created by magic, another must be sacrificed,” Niall finishes for the knight and if possible, Harry’s face pales furthermore.

_I experienced it first hand._

Louis frowns upon hearing Niall in his head again, the thought apparently loud enough, filled with guilt and regret, to resonate within him.

_My uncle did not die of old age. When Charlotte first brought me back to life, he was the closest soul to be taken away._

**Niall, I am so sorry.**

_Do not worry. We should focus on your prince instead._

Louis means to do that, instinctively reaching for Harry’s hands but then the carriage suddenly stops and the door opens to reveal a worried-looking Sir Grégoire.

“We arrived at the place for prayers and… the witch is here,” the knight announces, looking wary. “She requested to see Louis, alone.”

Almost immediately, the prince reaches forward, resting a hand on the servant’s knee. “No.”

“My Prince I do not think we can argue with her,” Sir Grégoire says carefully, briefly looking behind him.

“Is she alone?”

“Yes.”

“Then the both of us can go,” Harry says with finality as he grabs Louis’ hand and then jumps off the wagon when the knight steps away to let them pass. The servant yelps but is quick on his feet, easily matching Harry’s quick steps.

_Your prince is really that desperate to get you alone huh. Do not do anything I would not do hidden between the trees._

Louis blushes. **Niall shut up and don’t listen in on us.**

_I don’t think I want to anyway_

Louis holds back a huff but fortunately, he gets distracted when he finds himself engulfed in unfamiliar arms, Harry’s hand letting go of his at the surprising impact as well.

“Brother!” Charlotte’s voice is muffled against his chest. “I’m so sorry about Oìstin!”

He does not respond right away, sending a confused look Harry’s way who looks lost as well as he shrugs. They both expected to find the witch in her High Priestess persona as she presented herself to be last time they each saw her— not an emotional teenager currently hugging Louis as if her life depended on it.

“Is that all you wanted me here for?” he asks as his hands awkwardly hover over her body, not quite sure what to do with them.

“No it’s just—” Charlotte suddenly pulls back, finally letting Louis breathe. “Are you certain your prince is worth not coming back with me? The Druids, mother, and I can offer you a safer and happier place.”

“I am right here,” Harry speaks up. “Or did you forget what I looked like since yesterday?”

“Quiet down Styles, I am having a moment with my brother.”

“Seems rather one-sided,” he bickers back and Louis almost smiles when Charlotte pulls back with an offended gasp.

“Continue talking you scabby malodorous crone and I’ll curse you right off Albion!”

Louis blinks and expects Harry to reply sternly but instead the prince laughs, unbothered by the rather flourish insult.

“Have I missed the moment when you two became friends?” the servant finally asks. They both whirl around, glaring at him.

“What a ludicrous assumption,” the witch huffs, “I’m only helping him because of you if it was up to me, Camelot would be up in flames right now.”

“Again, witch, careful with your words.”

“Your pathetic knights would trip and fall on their own swords before you could declare a war.”

Louis grimaces at the bluntness of her words and subtly steps away while Charlotte and Harry appear distracted by each other. That is when he finally notices that the place for prayer seems to be an abandoned fountain made of peculiar white stones. Although it appears unkempt due to the absence of any water and the moss growing on its left side, the way trees part around the fountain make it look like a halo of light descends directly on it.

Tentatively he reaches a hand forward, fingers grazing the cold stone, and immediately pulls back when it seems to glow as soon as he touches it. He quickly retrieves his dagger, looking at his eyes on the metal’s reflection, and holds back a gasp when he sees bright gold shining in his eyes, brighter than they have ever done before. He takes a few steps back, hiding again under the trees’ foliage and away from the halo of light, immediately, he sees his eyes turn back to blue.

“I doubt she will make an appearance, I have hardly seen her myself and I am a High Priestess,” Charlotte’s voice is near again and Louis figures she and Harry have stopped arguing. “But make your request known, swear that you are different from your father and working into bettering how Camelot treats people with magic and she will keep an eye on you.”

She pauses as her eyes land on Louis, eyes squinting a little as she looks down at his hands. He frowns, doing the same, and notices small speckles of lights hovering around his dagger. Intrigued, he waves it around, watching as the speckles follow the movement in an almost fascinating dance.

Uh, odd.

He catches Harry’s eyes briefly as he hides his dagger again, the speckles disappearing only then. He shrugs to which the prince smiles softly.

Louis’ heart does not skip a beat.

“Magic is more concentrated in places for prayers, that I think you could guess,” she continues, “The one in Camelot has been completely destroyed but the magic still remains.”

“And where is the one in Camelot? Perhaps I can try to restore it,” Harry suggests. “That would please her, surely.”

Charlotte shakes her head. “It is in a cave below the castle but they destroyed the path leading to it, you will only find a deep crevice.”

 _And a dragon_. Louis meets the witch’s eyes for a moment and just like that, he knows that she knows what he thinks. Harry cannot restore the place for prayers… but _Louis_ can and he has a hunch that the place may be where the dragon egg currently is. He just needs to free Rùnwita first and that would probably already please the Goddess.

“So… what should I do?” the prince asks.

“Approach the fountain, go on one knee with a hand touching it and talk to her, simply,” she replies. “It must be only between you and the Triple Goddess so Louis and I will be standing a bit farther.”

Louis and Harry meet eyes again and the servant sends him an encouraging smile as he takes a few steps back to let him approach the fountain.

“Right… right, ok.”

“You will not be cursed don’t worry, I sent in a good word for you,” Charlotte snickers as she skips towards Louis and grabs his arm as if to make sure the servant would not follow the prince anyway. “Now while you do that, I will have a word with my brother.”

And before the prince could protest, Louis finds himself dragged a couple of steps away again. At this point, he is way too used to being just tossed around as if he were an object but he would be lying if he said he was not at least a little bit curious about what she actually wanted to tell him, and turns out he does not have to wait long.

“You haven’t told him you have magic, have you? Or anyone else?” Her voice is lowered now as she briefly glances at Harry in the distance giving himself some motivation as he stares into the empty fountain. “Apart from Niall I assume but he is another story and I should be worried about the fact he should be dead _dead_ right now. But he fell in love didn’t he? That would be the only reason _my_ spell broke.”

“You sound rather offended, sister,” he chuckles and ignores the way the word “sister” seems to calm her down immediately, her eyes suddenly twinkling — quite literally as well. “And no I did not tell anyone, I cannot. Harry only changed his perspective recently—”

“Because of Oìstin’s death.”

Louis cannot help but flinch a little at the reminder. “… Yes. As for Niall, I believe it was more infatuation and now a deep friendship that we share.”

“You soul-bonded though.” She sounds fascinated now and that makes Louis tilt his head in confusion. “I would not expect someone of your level to be able to cast such a strong spell.”

“You seem rather confident that I can, however, cast the spells you wrote me in that letter— to free Rùnwita and Excalibur’s power.”

“Well, with training obviously, but for all I know you could already be able to cast it now. Have you tried it on regular swords? Wait! Has Harry even taken Excalibur with him?”

Louis hums. “I haven’t just yet, could not find a moment of peace in Camelot. And yes he has, he intended on training as well while we stay in Ealdor for a couple of days.”

Charlotte nods, looking rather satisfied. “Good. And mother’s message? In your ring?”

“Um…” At that, the servant looks down at his right hand, eyes catching the golden band first before his mother’s ring. “Is it really necessary? Will I not be meeting her soon anyway? Why hasn’t she come to find me herself?”

“She… has been quite sick for a while,” Charlotte reveals with a slightly worried tone. “Despite how many times we heal her, it seems to come back again and again. Believe me, she would be here instead of me right now if she could.”

And that… that was the only reason Louis would even be tempted to join the Druids — just for a chance to see her, finally. He curls his hand into a fist and sighs.

“You know, spells are actually pretty easy, you can even forego them once you have practised enough,” she tells him, now looking ahead at Harry on one knee and looking deep in thought. He seems to be glowing under the halo of light, Louis thinks, looking like he is being blessed right there and there. “She did not tell me what the spell was but my guess is that it must have been something she associates you with dearly, but in the Old Language.”

Louis frowns as he stares at the ring again. He does not know much about his mother from what he was told, but the only thing he knows is that she named him Louis — or rather, _Alaois_ , after the tale of the boy and the fairy prince. The tale dates back to the time of the Old Religion, hence the name Alaois that Oìstin later changed to _Louis_ as The Purge turned into a full-fledged war wherein even a name in the Old Language would lead to great suspicions.

Fairy Prince. That could be his clue and it has been under his nose… for quite literally most of his life.

“How does one say ‘come to me, fairy prince’ in the Old Language?” he asks suddenly, startling the witch who probably thought the conversation was now over.

She looks at him with wide eyes but then a small smile starts to form on her lips as if she understood and shared Louis’ joy that he might have finally pieced the pieces together. _“Ancymst elfen breguweard.”_

Louis smiles to himself as he feels a slight shock on his finger but nothing else happens. Charlotte catches the action as well and seems to restrain herself from jumping on her feet. The ring had a reaction — it just did not fully activate because Louis was not the one to pronounce the spell.

 _By the Triple Goddess,_ he is getting so close. Though he truly wonders what kind of message would even be hidden thereafter all the revelations that already have been thrown at his face.

He does not get to ponder for longer because they see Harry finally get up in the distance. That is when Charlotte takes it as her cue to leave.

“Good luck, you two,” she says simply before she snaps her fingers and then simply disappears. Louis jumps a little, startled by the efficiency of her magic and perhaps just a little jealous he is not able to do the same.

Although perhaps just not _yet_. He crosses his arms in front of his chest, feeling giddy. He loves magic, he realises, he loves using it, he loves learning more about his heritage. He loathes getting more and more responsibilities on his shoulders, however.

The crunching of leaves getting louder as the prince approaches him ground him a little and soon the latter is right in front of him, breathing quite heavily.

“Good?” Louis asks, a small smile on his lips as he looks up at Harry who takes a deep breath. The servant cannot quite describe his expression — a mixture of apprehension yet hopefulness, perhaps.

The prince grabs his hand as they make their way back to the carriage. “Good.”

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

It takes a few more days until they finally reach Ealdor since Mercia happens to be a larger kingdom, in size, compared to Camelot. Those days are spent simply talking and enjoying life outside of Camelot and blissfully unaware of the chaos upon them. Louis could not find a time for himself to try the spell on his ring himself but Harry and the knights — Niall included — have been training whenever they stopped the carriage for a break.

They had to be careful however to not break yet another sword because of Excalibur so Harry has just been training by himself while the four other fighters duelled each other. In truth, when the four had their attention away, Louis joined Harry and trained with him as well, both of them being surprised when the dagger did not falter against Excalibur’s sharp edge. The weapons smashed together without either breaking.

It does make Louis wonder how his father managed to create such a sword, though. Magic is obviously embedded within the metal so it must have been enchanted while he was forging it but Charlotte could have not been there when he did — or she would have been discovered way earlier. Obviously, she did cast the spell later on that contains Excalibur’s magic for now, but otherwise… Same thing with the dagger, Louis has never noticed it before but it appears that it was made stronger with some sort of enchantment as well with the way it reacted back in the place for prayer. There is still something that does not make sense and Louis wonders if Oìstin has been hiding something more from him.

 _Enchantments_ … enchantments are more of the Sidhe’s or fairies’ signature. Not sorcerers.

Would it be ludicrous to think his father had some fairy blood in him and even he was unaware of it? Fairies are known to exude magic without ever meaning to. They do not need spells, they are _made_ of magic, if they simply wish for something, even unconsciously, it will happen. With this theory, if Oìstin had simply wished to create a powerful enough weapon to protect Louis, perhaps a bit of his inner magic slipped into the dagger. If he had wished, following Charlotte’s instruction, to create the most powerful sword to exist on this land, a little bit of that magic must have slipped through as well.

Was he the dormant magic Rùnwita could sense? It would also explain why the dragon even _felt_ it when the man died.

No. Rùnwita could sense other sorcerers, not other magical species. He only knew about Niall because Louis had formed a bond with him.

But…

“Louis, we’re here,” a voice brings him out of his thoughts and he startles, Harry’s face right in front of him, eyes searching his face. “Are you alright? Your eyes looked… glazed.”

Louis shakes his head, sighing in content when he feels the prince bring a hand to his left cheek as if to settle him down, ignoring the way his stomach churns at the action. They also have been a little bit… closer in the past few days. Surely a result of being away from Camelot’s eyes and so secure within their small bubble where Liam, Niall, Sir Grégoire, and Sir Nicholas do not question their proximity.

“I— I was thinking about my father,” he admits in a low voice, vaguely registering the carriage stopping, and Liam and Niall immediately exiting the wagon. Louis is rather grateful that the two of them know when to let him and Harry have a moment. “I feel like he has not told me everything about him, or perhaps he himself was unaware.”

“What do you mean?”

“You truly did not wonder how he even forged Excalibur? The sword’s sturdiness is not… not the craftsmanship of a normal human being. No alloy can be _that_ strong.”

“How do you know?”

“Basic logic… with enough attempts, any other blacksmith could manage to find that alloy yet none of them has. It’s been a week! There must have been something else, something that even my father probably didn’t even know.”

“Charlotte would have told you, wouldn’t she?”

“Oìstin was not _her_ father,” Louis reminds him. “My head is starting to hurt.”

“Then stop thinking for a moment, we are here for a break,” the prince gently tells him, kissing his cheek as he removes his hand. Louis blushes slightly, trying to not think about how those lips would feel against his. He shakes his head almost too violently as the thought crosses his mind and Harry raises an eyebrow at him, though a small amused smile can be found on his lips. “Come on now, I am sure you are dying to see Aelith again.”

Louis exhales, a smile finally creeping up his lips. “I do… God, Harry, I cannot wait for you to meet her!”

“I do think she has already met me,” Harry ponders, “before she was banished, that is.”

The servant deflates. “Oh, right, forgot about that part.” It is still odd to think about. Growing up he was just told Aelith left on her own because of The Purge and was promised to be left alone despite her magic. Instead, she had been forbidden to ever walk into Camelot again but the King still values her existence enough to let her keep contact with Stephen and raise Louis for all these years… “Well.” He clasps his hands, noticing their unusual clamminess. Why is he so nervous?

As soon as Louis steps out of the carriage, the breath is knocked out of him as a body collides with him, familiar and warm arms enveloping him with such love Louis almost bursts into tears right here and there.

He hears Harry chuckle next to him just as the person pulls back and Louis finds himself face to face with Aelith. He knows he has been gone for barely a few months but it feels so long, for some reason.

The old woman smiles warmly as she squeezes Louis’ cheeks in her wrinkled bruised hands.

“Oh, how good it is to see you again!” she exclaims as her grey eyes seem to search his face as if to make sure he is not injured anyway. “You seem a little tired, should I have a word with the King and Stephen?”

Louis chuckles weakly and she must have sensed his nervousness at the mention of the King because she seems to settle down immediately.

“Right, you are here on a small vacation,” she says lowly but with a look that clearly tells Louis he will have to update her on more recent developments in Camelot. He figures she will not be pleased to learn about… well, _everything_. “My Prince! How lovely to finally see what a bright young man you have become!” the old maiden exclaims next as she turns to face Harry instead. The latter bows slightly, immediately kissing her hand.

“It is a pleasure to finally meet you, Aelith,” Harry greets. “It is quite a lovely house you have there,” he adds on as he spares a look towards the luxurious front of the house filled with flowers.

“Ah, I am afraid I did not expect three more of you,” she admits as her eyes land on Niall, Sir Grégoire, and Sir Nicholas who sheepishly smile. “I hope you do not mind sharing a mattress.”

“We are quite used to it, do not worry ma’am,” Liam says with his signature charm of his, “we cannot thank you enough for letting us stay with you for a little while.”

“Nonsense, I invited you here. Well, Louis mostly. Which reminds me—” Aelith whirls around again, facing Louis with a confused frown, “dear, you did not tell you had another prince for a friend who has been looking for you,” she says and Louis frowns at that. “That is why I asked you to come back, actually.”

Another prince? He briefly looks behind him, meeting Harry’s eyes who shrugs but there is a distinct fury in his eyes. Betrayal? Jealousy? Louis does not quite know why.

“Because I do not have any…” he answers a bit worryingly.

“Then who’s the young man who showed up here a week or so after your departure?” she ponders. “He seemed very knowledgeable about you and he bought a house nearby although he spends most of his days here.”

“You are scaring me, Aelith.”

“Oh no don’t be!” she laughs. “He’s a sweetheart and has been very helpful around here, come. Zayn, we have some visitors!”

Almost immediately, the door opens on a quite dashing young man with tanned skin and short dark hair swept in a clean quiff who Louis absolutely does not know, amplifying his confusion. The man, as it turns out, wears quite luxurious garments despite the fact that they stand in rural lands, dressed in a velvety purple cloak wrapped around his slender shoulders. He looks slightly annoyed at first as he opens the door but then his eyes land on Louis and the man simply _lights up_.

Louis is still confused, vaguely registering Aelith reassuring the knights behind him that Zayn is no one to be wary of just as the man almost runs towards Louis.

“That is you!” the perfect — by the Triple Goddess, he _is_ pretty — stranger exclaims, almond eyes meeting Louis’ blues with such determination, the servant almost feels like he is the odd one for not knowing this man. “I would recognise you anywhere.”

And then he gasps, he knows that voice, he has heard it before, although it had a higher pitch back then… when his magic first manifested and the voice of a young boy tried to guide him towards the fairy realm but he was too overwhelmed to completely understand the directions.

The boy. That is him. But he cannot express that thought while everyone else is here. Instead, his heart simply picks up.

The foreign prince smiles as he takes Louis’ hand in his and then gently kisses the back of it. Warmth immediately starts to spread in Louis’ whole being and he holds back a gasp as he realises why when he briefly notices Zayn’s eyes gleaming gold.

 _Magic_.

But the luxurious garments do not lie and are no illusion — this man is royalty. Louis doubts he comes from a faraway kingdom like he pretends, however.

“It’s a pleasure to finally find you, dear Louis.”

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

_Everything was drenched in an odd golden hue as he looked around his room, finding objects floating around him, wrapped in that same yellow dust obstructing his view. His breathing was laboured, heart beating crazily as he tried to make sense of everything and his mind could only scream “you have magic” as an answer. He could vaguely register Aelith’s footsteps approaching and he panicked. No one could know he had magic! He was not in Camelot but he would be just as good as dead._

_So as soon as Aelith opened the door, calling his name in a worried voice, Louis ignored her and jumped through his window, landing ungracefully in the garden. And then he ran blindly, vision slowly regaining its usual colours but now blurry with unshed tears._

_Soon, he found himself in the middle of a forest — Brocéliande? Had he run far and fast enough to have already crossed the border? Ealdor was situated quite close_

_**A distressed soul with magic?** A voice suddenly resonated in his head, echoing faintly and making him momentarily stop crying. It sounded like a young boy like him and he looked around, confused. **I can help you!**_

_It sounded excited, encouraging, and friendly enough but Louis was in the middle of an unfamiliar forest and unsure of where to go. His father used to always tell him to never listen to strangers, but did that apply to other kids as well?_

_“Who are you?” he asked out loud. If he at least knew the voice’s name, it would not be a complete stranger anymore, would it?_

_**My name’s Zayn** , the little voice replied, **I’m just like you, Louis, follow my directions to the fairy realm that is where I am. My people can help and protect you.**_

_The fairy realm?_

_**Yes!** Louis startled. **It’s a bit far from where you are though…**_

_The small boy gulped at that, looking around him and only seeing tall trees and darkness surrounding him. “Help me,” he thought strongly as the voice— Zayn started to give him directions._

_His hands felt warm but soon enough, Zayn’s words sounded like faint murmurs in his head, unintelligible and too quiet and he swore he could hear something running after him, steps loud and menacing. He ran and ran again, clutching his hands into fists, afraid of touching anything, and in his hurry, he tripped over a branch and fell onto the grass._

_He did not move then, curling up in himself as he felt the energy built up in his hands being released at once around him. Louis closed his eyes and hoped for the best._

_He did not know for how long he laid there but when he came back to his senses, someone was shaking him with a gentle voice calling his name._

_Louis blinked, finally seeing Aelith in front of him, a ball of fire in her hands. He gasped then frowned, confused as he looked around and noticed the trees being bent in strange ways._

_“Why did you run into the forest like that small one?” she scolded him, bringing his gaze back on her. “Brocéliande is dangerous territory and you were too close to the fairy realm.”_

_“But— you— have magic…?”_

_The old woman looked a mix of exasperation and fondness as she sighed. “Come, I have a story to tell you back home.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Zayn is here :D it took almost half the fic but he is here haha (although... he was mentioned in chapter 1, just saying). See you in two weeks for the next one, we'll dive more into the magical world now that they're away from Camelot x

**Author's Note:**

> [Tumblr](http://lwtisloved.tumblr.com/) ¦¦ [Twitter](https://twitter.com/darlinlou) ¦¦ [ambiance playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7r5D0zdcS7y9Q1hYZ7Wkbh?si=KIRyNylnSIOgLcl5w3tzUQ)
> 
> Thank you for reading, dear, may our paths meet again x


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